Vienna
by xx Darcy Girl xx
Summary: Post war, Hermione and Draco meet as enemies only to fall in love and have a summer fling. five years later Hermione is living in London with her 5 yr old daughter. What happens when draco suddenly reappears? HG/DM plz read n review. LEMONS in Future
1. PrologueChapter 1

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Vienna

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Credit for the title comes from "Vienna" by Billy Joel.**

**AN: So this is my first story, I hope you guys like it. Reviews are always welcomed, especially critiques, I love to know what would make my writing better. I'm also currently looking for a Beta, so the offer is out to anyone who would like to help. So without further adieu…**

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_Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
Admit impediments. Love is not love  
Which alters when it alteration finds,  
Or bends with the remover to remove:  
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
It is the star to every wandering bark,  
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken  
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
Within his bending sickle's compass come:  
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.  
If this be error and upon me proved,  
I never writ, nor no man ever loved. _  
-Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

Prologue

Though we may not recognize it, or whether or not we would like to admit it, love surrounds us, and we thrive off it. We _need_ it.

Be it Mothers, fathers, sisters, or brothers, husbands, wives, sons or daughters.

When we allow it to, it consumes us, as our hearts start to beat erratically against our chest, our breathing becomes labored, and our bodies fill with an overpowering warmth, that we radiate, causing flowers to bloom, birds to sing, and the air to buzz with an intangible electricity, exciting yet shocking.

But if we aren't careful, this electricity has the power to burn us, striking like lightning that jaggedly rips through the sky, falling through the heavens and hitting at random the poor, unsuspecting fool stupid enough stand exposed in an open felid during a storm.

These are the people who spend their nights buried deep within the spine of a well worn romance novel, sopping up the clichéd plots and desperately seeking for their prince charming to ride into the sunset with.

These are the people who get slammed in the gut by love, knocked on their asses while they convince themselves that all the Wickham's are really the Darcy's of the world, and all the Darcy's are just Wickham's because they've fallen before. And they never seem to feel themselves falling, until they've hit rock bottom and there's no return.

They lose hope as the stories that they so desperately cling to become nothing more than a tragic end and the magic that they held forever fades away.

Because there really is no such thing has happily ever after,

And because stories must end…

And because love will always inevitably end in heartbreak.

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**_Hermione Granger_**

Chapter 1

_I could hear the ocean as the waves crashed down onto the shore and lapped at my feet. It caressed the sand as it retreated back out to sea, pulling along with it the tiny shards of broken shells that littered the shore. _

_The smell of the salt tickled my nose and the crisp morning air stung my arms and face. I wrapped my arms around my body, and lifted my head up to the rising sun's gentle morning rays. _

_Feeling a presence behind me, I turned my back to the sun, seeing a man bathed in white light. The glow he emitted seemed to pulsate, and he extended one pale arm and hand toward me. I could not see his face, for the light was obscuring it, however, I felt myself being pulled to him._

_No louder than a whisper he let slip one heavenly word from his lips. "Hermione," he breathed. _

"_Hermione… Hermione…"_

_.:XXX:._

"Mummy"

"_Mummy"_

"Mummy?"

"MUMMY WAKE UP"

That one seemed to do it. I jumped, startled, and immediately shot up from my bed. My hand instinctively reached out for my wand as I scanned my room for any danger. I could feel the bed shaking beside me; a child-like shaped body under the covers was racked with laughter. Parts of her curly platinum blond hair stuck out from underneath.

"Emma Rose, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Her icy blue eyes peeked out from her place under the covers, and even though she had stopped laughing, they still held hints of amusement in them. She wouldn't answer me, instead she clamped her lips shut and dove right back under.

"Emma, if you don't come back out now, I'm going to have to tickle it out of you," I warned her.

Faster then a bullet, she shot out and ran back into her own room. Begrudgingly, I stalked out of my bed stopping in front of the mirror on the back of my door. I examined my face, searching for a hint of something that could make me stand out, make me special.

Instead a pair of plain hazel eyes stared back at me beneath a mess of frizzy brown hair. I looked at my body, eyes roaming over my slim frame. I had some curves, sure, but I was nothing to look at.

That was when I remembered what day it was. I slapped myself in the forehead. Emma's first day at school, how could I have been so _stupid_.

Emma was standing with her back toward me, one hand on her little hip as she examined the contents of her closet. I just sat and watched her for a minute, her brows were scrunched together in contemplation, her lips pursed as if she was trying to find the answer to life's questions. She was the most important thing in my life, the glue that held me apart and propelled my forward to give her the best life I could. She was my angle, and though a surprise, the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I walked into her room and placed a kiss on her soft curls. "Do you need help," I asked her. She shook her head no, and pulled out a tiny green outfit. With her tiny hands, she shooed my out of her room. I laughed at her antics, and stared on some pancakes.

She came down a few minutes later, and climbed up to the table. She was acting differently, though, and I could tell that something was bothering her.

Soothingly I stroked her hair, placing a hand on her forehead to make sure she wasn't sick. "Emma baby, what's wrong," I was starting to worry, she wouldn't eat, only pushed her food around the plate.

"I'm scared," her soprano voice rang out. She was rarely afraid of anything, and hardly let it show when she was.

"What are you scared of honey?"

Barley more than a whisper, "What if they don't like me, what if they think I'm weird" and she bowed her head so I couldn't see her face.

I placed a finger under her chin to make her look me in the eye, "Emma Rose Granger, you are no different then any other person, do you understand. Anybody who says otherwise is a prat. Do you understand me?"

"Yes mummy."

"Good, now put your coat on and grab your bag, you don't want to be late for your first day." A smile immediately replaced her frown, and she skipped to the fireplace ready to start her first day of school.

There was a pang of guilt in my chest as I took a picture of her, she was beaming up at the camera and I was reminded once again of how much she resembled her father. A father that, she would most likely never know.

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**AN: Sorry it's so short, next chapter will be longer if you like it, I promise. **

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	2. Chapter 2

**Vienna**

**Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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**_Hermione Granger_**

Work had never passed so slowly before.

Every minute, every miniscule second seemed like a goddamn day. I could swear at some point that the clock was moving backwards. Every 'tick-tock' of that damn clock seemed to be mocking me, an infuriating pain in my ass. At one point, I sighed, exasperated, which earned me a few strange looks from my co-workers.

After Emma was born my career took off. As difficult as it was, single, and raising a newborn while working full time, I managed to overcome it, and Emma was always welcome in my office. I was twenty, Emma one, when I'd started in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the centaur division. I started low, a secretary. I rose up in ranks, taking night classes at a local muggle university in law until I was one of the best public defenders they had. I could win almost every case. I transferred to The Wizengamot, still as a public defender, sometimes on the prosecution side, not soon after. We lived a comoftable life, Emma and I, but we were by no means rich. Our small flat in muggle London was just the perfect size, Emma's toys were always scatered all over the floor, and bookshelves lined the walls, overflowing with books.

I had hoped that I would be swamped at with work, anything to keep my mind off the fact that Emma doesn't get off of school until 3:15. Its not like we hadn't been apart before, I had left her at a daycare while I was at work everyday, but today it felt different. She was growing up, way too quickly, and I just wasn't ready to part with her, even if it was just as simple as primary wizarding school. She was accepted into an advanced class, smarter then most at her age and oddly perceptive. Nothing seemed to get past her. I was worried about what she had said this morning, and I prayed that my baby girl would fit in. Who knows what she could have done to those kids, as sweet as she may look, she's been known to be cunning, a little trickster.

For what seemed like the millionth time, I looked back at the clock.

Five more hours left. You had got to be kidding me.

I had to do something to occupy my time, distract myself, and sitting there tapping my fingers against the cherry wood of my desk clearly wasn't productive.

My eyes scanned my desk; it hadn't been properly cleaned out in a while. Stacks of papers and legal documents were strewn in a messy fashion, probably not the best way to stay organized, I thought to myself. I started to separate the documents into separate piles, and I had at least six piles going by the time Harry came in.

"I thought you might be needing this," he placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of me. I was so absorbed in my organizing that I didn't even hear him enter.

I smiled up at him, always happy for his interruptions. "Thanks Harry, you're a life savor."

He sat in a leather chair across from my desk. After the war was over and the media died down, he enrolled in the Auror training, with Ron, and now they were working together in an office just below mine. Ginny and he married right after the war, and she was expecting their second child in January. As of now she stayed home full time with three-year-old James. James was a terror, just like his father. Always getting into trouble, he had figured out how to levitate the cookie jar right off the table, something I'm sure Emma had taught him, as it was always one of her favorite tricks at that age too. It stressed poor Ginny out constantly.

Ron was living with Luna, none of us had seen that one coming. But they were good together, he didn't mind her little quirks, though she had matured a bit since Hogwarts. Still, she never did let anyone's comments bother her before. They were just getting serious, testing the waters before they jumped in, so to speak. She helps with the Quibbler from time to time, its much more toned down now, and had worked along with me in the Magical Creature department, and remains there today.

To this day, I still have not told any of them the true identity of Emma's father.

Harry took a sip of his coffee as I did mine, "How's Ginny," I asked him.

"She's much better, morning sickness is gone, thank Merlin, but I think the cravings are starting to pick up. She's not nearly as, uh…" He let out a nervous laugh, we all knew Ginny to get a little snippy, okay so maybe a little bitchy might be better, when she was pregnant. He leaned forward in his seat, and grew a little more serious. "What I really want to know, Hermione, is how _you're_ doing today."

It was my turn for a nervous laugh. "Me, oh, uh, I'm great." He raised one eyebrow at me and looked at the carefully sacked piles of papers on my desk. It did seem a little OCD, now that I think about it. Obviously, he did not buy that. "No Harry, I'm not, I'm a complete wreck. What if she doesn't like it there, what if the other kids are mean to her? She was so scared this morning, she thought they would think she was weird."

"Hermione," his voice was soothing, "don't worry, Emma's stronger then you'd think. I wouldn't doubt her turning anyone who picked on her into a newt. You know her, she doesn't crap from anyone, much like someone else I know."

I'm not the only one.

Finally. Five after three, it was about damn time.

I jumped out of my chair and grabbed my coat. I said a hasty goodbye to Shari, who had a desk next to mine, and ran out of my office.

In all my haste, I bumped right into someone's chest. I was in a rush, so I didn't bother to look up to see who it was, merely muttering an apology and continuing on my way. I reached the apparition point, getting to the school with a few minutes to spare. Parents were standing together, holding hands while they waited _together_ for their sons or daughters. Then there was me, alone, and I felt yet another guilty pang in my gut.

Its not like I had dreamed that my life would turn out this way, and though I had Emma, but I still could help but feel like my heart wasn't completely full, as if part of it had been left behind all those years ago.

The bell rang and students started to file out of the building, little kids making their way over to their parents. Emma came out behind all of them, timidly looking around until she spotted me. When she did, her eyes lit up, and she starting running, her blond locks blowing in the wind behind her.

I crouched down to her level, my arms wide open, and she slammed into me. She was smiling broadly, and in her hand she held a picture she had painted that day.

I took it from her; she had drawn two people, her and me I'm assuming. Her little black cat, Winky, was there too. The three of us were in our living room.

"Do you like it mummy?

"Oh honey I love it. I'll hang it up right away once we get home." I stood up and grabbed her hand, making our way down Diagon Alley. "How was your first day of school?"

"It was terrific, Miss Lavender is super nice, and I already made one friend, Allison. You'll like her mummy…" I let Emma talk, adding in the appropriate comments when need be, she tended to ramble and go off on tangents when she got excited and told a story. "… but Amelia didn't like my picture, and told me that I didn't have a real family because I didn't have a daddy. She said, 'you're weird if you don't have a daddy, your mummy must really not be your mummy then.' That hurt my feelings, I really don't like her, so I punched her in the face and told her she was a right fowl git. Miss Lavender gave me a time out."

"Emma Rose Granger, you never hit other people, not matter how mean they are!" I was shocked to hear her say this, but truth be told, I wasn't really liking this particular girl either. "And I never want to hear you say the word 'git' every again."

"Yes mummy, I'm sorry."

"Who even taught you this?"

"Uncle Ron and Uncle Harry, they said it was okay." Of course, I should have known. Leave it to them to teach her something like that.

"Well then, we'll be having a nice long talk about that tonight." We had reached our apartment by now. "Go get yourself cleaned up, we're going over to Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny's tonight." Dinner there was a regular event, but she was still always excited to see them. Winky followed her down the hall as she danced off to go get ready.

.:XXX:. .:XXX:. .:XXX:. .:XXX:. .:XXX:. .:XXX:. .:XXX:. .:XXX:. .:XXX:. .:XXX:.

We arrived at Harry's, flooing in, not to long after. Ron and Luna were supposedly arriving in a few minutes. I held off on yelling at Harry just for now.

I was standing at the kitchen counter, helping Ginny cook. James was playing with some action figures, his favorite quidditch players that zoomed around his head. Emma was reading a kid's books. She had always been advanced for her age, teaching herself how to read before she even started school, and learning simple math, much like me she always enjoyed learning something new.

Ron and Harry came sauntering into the kitchen not ten minutes later. They turned sharply on their heels after seeing my face, trying to make a run for it.

"Hold it right there, you two. Don't you think about running away from me."

"Wha- Wha- What we do 'Mione? It was nothing really! I swear. I- I- I didn't mean to!" Ron was stumbling over his words in his haste.

Luna, who had just entered, and Ginny narrowed their eyes at the two boys. "What have you two babbling baboons been up to now," Ginny asked them.

"Nothing, we didn't do anything, we promise!" Harry was palling under the scrutiny of his wife.

"Well then imagine my surprise to hear that my five year old daughter was told it okay to walk around _punching_ anyone she didn't like, _and _calling them a 'right fowl git'. I believe those were her words. Do you two have anything to say for yourselves?" They looked scared out of their wits, their eyes focused on my hands. It took me a moment to realize that I was still holding a knife, and it was aimed at them. "I leave her alone with you two for one day, _one day_, and this is what righteous values you choose to instill in her."

Emma smirked up at them, almost as if to say, 'you're in trouble now'. Ron pointed a finger at her. "You! You said you wouldn't tell! We even got you that doll like you wanted. We were just trying to help her with school, just incase people were mean to her, 'Mione, we promise."

"Emma, did you blackmail them?" I had to give it to her, she was smart, she had a knack for always getting what she wanted.

She looked down, I took that as a yes. "Emma, blackmail is bad, how many times do I have to tell you that. And you two, I appreciate the fact that you would want to help her, next time try to say something _age appropriate._"

"Yes m'am," they said together in unison, heads bowed.

"Good, now off with you."

I looked at Ginny who rolled her eyes. "Kids…" she muttered under her breath.


	3. Chapter 3

**Vienna**

**Chapter 3**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**AN: Thank you so much everyone who reviewed, I replied to everyone who did, it means so much to me that you took the time to leave a comment, they made my day. And to those who left an anonymous review and all my silent readers, thank you too. I'll try to update as much as I possibly can. **

**This will be a past chapter, and I'll be sticking a few of those in every now and then before somebody (I won't say who) comes back into the story.**

**So after an annoyingly long author's note, I apologize, the chapter…**

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**Six years ago**

**_Hermione Granger_**

I leaned my cheek up against the cool glass of the car window. In the front seat, my father reached out to grab my mother's hand that was resting on the arm piece. They stole a secret smile with each other, each peaking out of the corners of their eyes. Even twenty years of marriage their love for each other had never waivered. It was something I admired, something I envied, and something I wanted for myself.

The war was finally over and done with, Voldemort dead and Harry victorious. The wizarding world was finally able to breath and return to the way things were before the war, before all hell had broken lose, though there were some who still harbored resentment towards the death eaters for destroying their families and their lives. It was a strange feeling, comforting though, to know that we were safe now. The remaining death eaters that had escaped from the battle at Hogwarts were locked up safely in prison, the others dead. Harry was able to exonerate the innocent, including the Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, and Snape, although he had died in the shrieking shack, his name was no longer tainted. He could be remembered nobly. Lucius Malfoy had been locked up in Azkaban along with all the other death eaters, he was just a dirty piece of scum like the rest of them, according to Harry and the rest of the Order, it was only Draco and Narcissa who wanted out.

With the war and constant threat of danger over, I was able to bring my parents back from Australia. Luckily for me, they didn't remember a thing and were able to return to their normal lives like nothing had happened.

Since I had never been home a whole summer in quite a few years, they've decided to take a family vacation. Just the three of us, on the beach, no magic, and no friends. So here we where, traveling through England for our 'family vacation'.

The car glided silently down the road, we had gone about 20 kilometers so far, and I must have dozed off because the next thing I know I'm waking up to my mother's gentle touch, telling me that we're here. The bed was comfortable, and I fell quickly into a deep sleep.

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When I woke up, I had to take a few moments to get my bearings about me. I had completely forgotten that we were on vacation. I looked around the room. The walls were painted white, they had a rustic feeling about them, parts of the paint were fading and wearing off, and the floor was a light wood color. Off to the side were French doors leading to a small balcony. I pulled myself off the bed to go stand out on the balcony. I grabbed a bathrobe that was hanging on a hook behind the door. A small desk sat next to it. I pulled open the French doors and sunlight poured through the room, casting an eerie glow on everything. The balcony faced the back of the house and the stretch of beach that was behind it. Looking down the beach you could make out other cottages along the shore.

I found my parents, my mother Jean and my father Robert, sitting in the kitchen, nursing cups of tea in their hands. "Good morning, honey," my mum greeted me, "sleep well?"

"Excellent." I grabbed a muffin and sat down. "So, are we doing anything special today?"

"Well, we figured today you could just relax. Maybe go down to the beach for a while. Your mother and I wanted to go look around the town today, see what there is today." I nodded my acceptance. "Hermione, you should see if there is anybody your age on the beach, try to make a friend."

"I thought this was a no friends vacation? That's why we left London."

"Well we can't expect you to be around us all day, now can we?" my mother answered, smiling over her tea at me. "A local friend might be nice for you, get out and meet some new people." There was no doubt that she wanted me to make some more friends, other then Harry and Ron. Probably someone more 'normal'.

"I think I'll just take a book down to the beach and relax." Her smile wavered for a few seconds but covered it up quickly. I loved my parents, I truly did, but there were some things that I just couldn't tell them about the world I live in. They wouldn't understand what it is that Harry, Ron and I were always doing when we ran off together. Some of it would probably break their hearts, knowing their little girl was always doing something dangerous, putting her life on the line practically every day. They just wanted what was best for me, and I knew they only wanted me to be safe.

"Okay. Well, you know where to find us. Have fun sweetheart."

"Thanks mum, thanks dad. See you later." I took a quick last bite of my toast and ran back to my room. I rummaged around in my bags and pulled out a bathing suit and a book and a pair of sunglasses. Since I hadn't had time to go shopping myself, my mother had picked out all my bathing suites. Why she would buy something so revealing, I have no idea. I grabbed a thin cover-up and threw it on myself.

The sun was high in the sky by the time I got out to the beach, and it warmed my skin through my sheer cover-up. The sand got in between my sandals and burned my feet, but I took them off my and dug my feet into the sand, relishing in the warmth it provided. I looked around for a lounge chair, and spotted one a little ways off. I couldn't tell which house it belonged to, but I dragged it down to the water anyway.

I laid across the chair, half in the water, book open on my lap. The coolness of the water was refreshing against the harshness of the sun. Further down the beach some kids were playing in the water while their parents watched them from the shore. In the other direction, a couple was walking aimlessly through the water. Hands clasped and swinging between them. Everything was peaceful, nobody had to worry about being captured or cursed. They were happily oblivious to the suffering that had just racked my world, stuck in the perpetual battle of good vs. evil, light vs. dark.

As I read my book, I couldn't help but wonder how it was that everyone seemed to have a happy ending. Through all the misfortune and grief that was dumped on them, they never seemed to give up. Or even if they did, they ended up having some miraculous epiphany and riding off into the sunset with their prince charming. One big cliché after another.

Something moved in front of my chair, cutting off my sun and casting a shadow over me. A dreaded voice that I would recognize anywhere spoke, "Oi, Granger, you're sitting in my chair."

Slowly, I lowered my sunglasses down my nose, looking up at none other than a smirking Draco Malfoy. You had _got_ to be kidding me.

This was going to be a very long summer.

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**AN: Sorry this chapter is so short, but I felt I just had to end it there and get it out. I had planed on having it out over the weekend, but I had gotten a new computer, and I wasn't able to use it. Next chapter will be in Draco's POV.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Vienna**

**Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**AN: Again, thank you to everyone. You guys make my day, especially since I've been sick. Don't expect my updates to be so frequent, I've just had a lot of free time. To any British readers, I am American, so bear with me if I say something wrong. Feel free to correct me too. **

**Also, lots of thanks to my new beta Anna, she's awesome!**

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**_Draco Malfoy_**

I fumbled around with the lock to my apartment.

It was late at night, and I was just coming home from my official first day back at the ministry. Nothing really seemed to change around here, even after six years. I had been in London for about a month, yet my apartment remained void of any illusion that a person might live here. No pictures lined the bare white walls, and the only thing in my tiny living room was an old leather couch and a bookshelf. My mattress rested on the floor, a mirror hung over an old dresser. It's not like I didn't have the money to get a nice apartment, decorate and make it more comfortable, I just didn't see any reason to. I felt no connection to it, almost as if I didn't belong. I couldn't have gone back to the manor. That place held too many memories, some I wasn't quite ready to face yet.

I threw my robes onto the back of the couch, not bothering to pick it up as it fell to the floor, and shuffled into the kitchen. In my refrigerator were some leftovers from the local deli and a firewhisky. Grabbing the firewhisky and last night's take out, I sat down at the small table in the corner.

When I first left for work this morning, I had been hoping that I would be able to see her. Even catch a glimpse, after all this time, would have been enough to settle my nerves. I told myself, if she was happy, I would leave her alone. I knew it was all my fault, I was the one who had to go screw everything up. But I was young, stupid, and I had fallen hard for her. It was too unexpected, for as long as we had known each other we had been mortal enemies. Before that summer, the only words exchanged between us were snide sarcastic comments, meant to be demeaning. We were taught to hate each other, from the moment we entered Hogwarts our loyalties to our houses took precedence, blood status used as an excuse to justify the hatred of those whose blood was not pure, engrained into our heads by our self righteous parents.

My wish had come true today, or at least in part. She was walking down the hall, hurriedly, looking anxious or upset about something. She didn't even notice when she walked into me, instead she just kept on walking. Instead of calming me, the sight of her just made me want her more. I wanted to reach out to her, make her mine once more but she ran away before I could even utter a syllable.

A light pecking at the window pulled me out of my thoughts. A large eagle owl was perched on the window sill, a letter tied to its leg. I recognized it as belonging to my mother. What in the bloody hell was she doing writing to me at this time of night.

The owl flew in and landed on my coffee table, holding it's leg out as I gently untied the letter and handed it a treat. I opened the letter to read my mother's elegant hand writing.

_Draco, darling,_

_I'm sorry to be writing at such an hour, but I need to know if you are coming tomorrow, for I did not receive your answer. Everyone will be there, and we are so looking forward to seeing you. Please send your reply back with Hermes. _

_It's good to have you back, Honey, I missed you terribly. It's so quiet and empty here without you._

_All my love,_

_Mother_

Crap, her welcome back party. I had completely forgotten about it. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, taking the last swig of my fire whisky. I found a piece of parchment and a quill, quickly scribbling out a yes to send off with the owl. I just couldn't say no to my mother, after everything she had been through.

From the moment I was born, my father had planned out my entire life. He raised me to be the perfect Death Eater, in the process shutting down a side of me that held any compassion. It was a terrifying and unsettling way to grow up, constantly having to look over my shoulder, making sure I was pleasing my father, 'talking the talk', or so to say. My father loved me, and he only wanted what he thought was best for me. My mother, though, never hid her love in the confines of our home. Her cold exterior worked as protection for her, and for me. In her situation, weakness was not allowed, but there was no way out of it, for she did love my father no matter what side he chose. Love was a form of weakness.

That night on top of the astronomy tower, was finally my time to prove my loyalty to the Dark Lord, and to my father. But looking into the eyes of the man I had been taught to despise since my start of school made me hesitate and listen to him. He offered me a chance to escape, to get out of the godforsaken mess that my father had woven my family into.

Could he really have done that, give me a normal life? A life in which I was free of the Dark Lord, where I didn't have to worry about putting up any kind of guard, where I could have been free to be myself, not one of his servants.

Those offers, they were so enticing, like an elixir to a dying man, or the soft melody of a childhood lullaby a mother sings to her child. It was what I had always wanted, like he could see right through me. I should have been able to kill him, he was the weak one, not me. I was torn, ripped apart at the middle by my two conflicting sides. It had physically hurt, almost as if a pair of rusty pliers had been thrust in to my chest. I didn't want to be a monster, a murder, it wasn't who I was, it was who I was trained to be. What I was manipulated into thinking. It was the only way to prove that I wasn't weak.

But I had lowered my wand.

He smiled at me, and told me to run. Fetch my mother and father and get into contact with someone from the order, they would help me; cloak us from the Death Eaters.

So I ran home, but not before seeing Snape, the only one who I trusted at Hogwarts, murder the man who had just offered to help me. I ran until I was out of the protective enchantments that surrounded Hogwarts.

I had known that I couldn't just waltz into my manor, news of failing had probably reached other Death Eaters, and as I had predicted, it was surrounded.

I was able to slip in using a secret passageway through the dungeon and found my mother and father sitting in the library. My father had looked furious so I hid in the shadows of a bookcase.

"**What was he thinking? What was he thinking! He's just gone and put the entire family at risk. He had one task, kill the old bat, and he failed! Now my neck is on the line, and he's nowhere to be found!"**

"**Lucius, please-" My mother slowly got up off the couch, one hand outstretched as she placed it on my father's back, in an effort to comfort him. "There must be something, anything…"**

**Her touch seemed to startle him, and he spun around to face her. Seeing how distraught she looked, his face softened, as did the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry Narcissa, I don't think I'll be able to get him out of this one, the Dark Lord does not forgive this easily. He's dug his own grave now." **

**Her whole body shook beneath the weight of her sobs. It appeared too much for my father, and he left the room, robes billowing behind him. **

**I took a small step out of the shadows, keeping half my face covered by the darkness. Quietly, I called out to her, "Mother".**

"**Draco, Draco is that you?" Her cries were frantic yet quiet, and I inched out a little more so she could see me. She ran over to me and hugged me to her chest, as if I'd disappear right there. **

"**Mother, we have to go, we have to get out of here. He offered us protection, said to go to the Order, we can start over, Mother. Come on, we have to find Father, we have to go!" **

"**Draco, please, slow down, what are you talking about?" **

"**Dumbledore, he said that we could go to the Order and they would protect us. We wouldn't have to fight anymore. We would be safe. We have to find Father and tell him." **

**My mother's eyes, so much like my own but filled with compassion, love and most importantly relief that I was safe, searched my face. "Are you sure you want to do this?"I nodded my head in response. "Okay then. You stay here, darling, it's safer for you. I'll go find your father and explain."She kissed the top of my head and left the room.**

**I sat and waited for her, this was it, there was no turning back now. I knew my mother would support me in anything I wanted to do, but my father, I wasn't so sure. His loyalty to the Dark Lord was everything he knew, and he spent most of his life building up that trust. He used it to rationalize his actions, ease his dissonance, and make his means justify his ends. He hated everything the Order stood for. Could he really leave this life? **

**The door opened, and I stood up. My mother came in, tear tracks stained her face as a lone tear slid down her cheek. She shook her head no, and I sunk back down. She knelt down in front of me and took my hands in her's. "Draco, you have to know that he loves you, but this is where he wants to be, this is his life." I couldn't listen to her, I shook my head violently and backed away. Did he really love me, if he really loved me wouldn't he have come with us? "It's now or never, we have to go."**

I had let her take me from my home, and we had gone to the Order. They hadn't taken lightly to us showing up, after the events at Hogwarts. They disarmed us and we were questioned under Veritaserum. I told them everything Dumbledore had told me, everything he promised for my family and me if we chose to leave. I told them that I had lowered my wand and ran, and that I had seen Snape kill Dumbledore. We were escorted by Tonks, under my mother's request, to the beach house in a muggle town, where we were to remain until the war ended. Though we could leave the house to go into the town, we rarely did, being surrounded by muggles gave us a dirty feeling.

When 'The Boy Who Just Refuses to Die' finally killed the Dark Lord, the Order was able to keep my mother and I out of Azkaban, the same couldn't be said for my father. We were told he tried to lay low before the downfall, but it wasn't enough to save him. He died shortly after his conviction. It nearly killed us. I learned later that he had only stayed to protect me, to make sure that the Dark Lord couldn't find me.

I couldn't go home after that, face my friends and family, so instead I left the country, hiding out in France. I acted like a coward who couldn't face their feelings, latent memories clouded my thoughts and obscured my decisions.

I took off faster than a bat out of hell.

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**AN: So I'm not to sure who's POV will be next, I've started on a few things, but when I make up my mind, you'll get a sneak peak if you review. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Vienna**

**Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**AN: I'm sorry this is so late, but everything just got really hectic, especially all my classes, and then I went away, but I have no excuse. So I've decided to go with another one of Draco's POV, but it'll probably be much shorter, so I apologize. Again, thanks to my amazing beta, Anna, for all her help. And thank you to all my lovely reviewers, you guys are all amazing too, even the anonymous ones. But if you leave an anonymous review, I can't send you a sneak peek or answer any of your questions. Make sure you read the AN at the bottom, there's a little surprise down there. **

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**_Draco Malfoy_**

Even after all these years, the manor still looked the same, large and foreboding. Not to mention all the memories.

I apparated right in front of the gates, taking a deep breath before I went inside. With one hand I pushed the creaking gate aside and walked up the cobblestone pathway to the main enterance. A house elf opened the door and lead me through the halls to a larger room from what I expected.

So this was my mother's plan.

She approached me, still as beautiful and as warm as I remembered. She hugged me close, and whispered to me, "It's good to have you back, darling. You were gone too long." She stroked the side of my face affectionately and grabbed my hand, leading me to the others.

I stuck a strained smile on my face, trying to match my mother's naturally radiant one. Out of the corner of my mouth, I whispered back harshly to her. "Mother, I _thought_ you said this was going to be a _small_ party."

"This _is_ a small party, dear. And I would think you'd be happy to see everybody after such a long time."

"You invited half my year! I didn't even like these people when I went to school with them." It seemed to me that my mother's way of getting me to stay here for good was to shove as many friends down my throat as possible. Most of the guests also looked to be women.

Typical.

"Just be _nice_." Mother stated with that smile that spoke loud and clear to me.

"Easy for you to say," I grumbled back to her. She gave me a look as if to say, 'don't-screw-this-up-or-you're-screwed-young-man', and I took that as an order, not a friendly request. Adult or not, she was still my mother, and she was not to be messed with. She made a beeline through the crowd, she wasn't rushing, yet she sure as hell was determined to get me away from Blaise and into the crowd of desperate women so I could be ogled at and drooled over.

I knew my mother wanted me to marry, start a family with some nice pureblood tart who was only into me for my money and my status, but I wasn't having any of that.

Daphne and Pansy approached first, both as vile as I had remembered them. I smiled, or rather smirked, at them and I could see them swoon. I wasn't interested in either of them, but since I was stuck in hell, I might as well enjoy it.

Pansy reached me first, "Draco," she purred in her sickly sweet voice. She hadn't changed in the least bit, still thinking she had any sex appeal. Her hips swayed as she walked. She looked like a snake, fangs bared, approaching her prey. "It's just marvelous to have you back. I've sure missed you. Six years really is too long." For the love of Circe, she was a succubus, slowly yet surly draining the life out of me.

Daphne was right behind her, and used her hips to bump Pansy out of the way, just as I was placing a kiss on her perfectly manicured hands. Unlike Pansy, Daphne was a true siren, a real femme fatal, everything about her was designed to lure you; the mere sound of her voice was hypnotizing and she used it to trap you. But once you were in her grasps, and you snapped out of her spell, you were a goner. She turned your life into a living hell and was no better than Pansy and all the others.

"Pansy, shouldn't you be getting back to Theo, your husband? And your _daughter_?" Daphne pointed her pretty little finger out into the crowd where Theodore Nott was holding a little girl.

"_You_ have a kid? Merlin, who would've thought?" I asked her, slightly bemused as her entire face flushed a bright red. Well, I guess Pansy has matured somewhat, but I still couldn't see her as a mother, let alone be responsible enough to care for a child. The thought was shocking.

"Yes, and her name is Ella." She walked over to Nott and took the child from his arms and came back over to me. The little girl buried her head in her mother's neck, peaking out at me through her hair. With that little girl in her arms, Pansy's whole demeanor seemed to change. Her face returned to a normal color and grew more serious, yet softer too as she looked at Ella. Not getting the attention she had wanted, Daphne walked off to join a conversation somewhere behind me. "Things are different now, Draco. Did you really just expect me to remain an immature bint the rest of my life? I had responsibilities. I knew I had to marry; I had to please my family, so I did. I didn't marry for love, but I found it. And then suddenly it wasn't all about me anymore, I was somebody's wife, and somebody's mother. I may have my moments, as you saw before," she blushed a little at this, "but I'm not the same person I was when I left Hogwarts. There comes a time where you have to think about something other than yourself. But what would you know about that, about responsibility? When something happens in your life that you don't like, what do you do, run away for six years instead of confronting your problems. You took the easy way out, and while you continued live in your little bubble of denial, the rest of the world isn't going to wait around for you. This is not school, there is no teacher to fix your mistakes for you, it's the real world and everything you do here is on your own back. Everything _you_ do has repercussions, and until you realize this, you'll always be the same old Draco Malfoy." She smiled softly at me, something I still wasn't quite used to, and touched my cheek lightly, just as a mother would before walking away to stand by Theo, but not before saying, "Someday I hope you realize this."

I stood, completely and utterly speechless. She had one thing right, she was most definitely not the same person she was at school. What she said, though, hit some kind of sore spot in me. What did she know about my life? Of course I had responsibilities, sure I left, but it was necessary, I had reached my goddamn breaking point. I knew what I had done by leaving, by leaving _her_, promising her I would come back but never did, and it still haunted me. If I had stayed, would it have been different? I looked at her with Ella again, and I felt something like envy. What was I envious of, why? And if I knew what I did was wrong, and I could admit this to myself, then why did it even hit that sore spot?

"Draco, mate!" I turned at the sound of my name being called over my shoulder. Blaise was now on his way over to me. He was wearing a suit that gave him a more serious and refined look, though his olive skin, brown eyes and hair remained young and boyish, as did his wide smile.

We shook hands and moved over to sit on some couches. "Merlin, mate, I thought you'd never come back. The letters only say so much." Blaise was the only one I stayed in contact with all these years, though I never did tell him where I was, but he knew why I left. His silver wedding band glinted in the light, heavily contrasting with the darker pigment of his skin.

Through his letters, I found out that Blaise had married Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's younger sister, a few years out of school. It wasn't an arranged marriage, but their parents were thrilled none the less. They shared a love that was rare in the pureblood world, as so many were arranged in order to keep the pureblood lines going.

"So how was your first day back at the ministry?"

"Relatively uneventful, I spent the greater part of the day just following the head of the Auror department, filing paperwork, sitting in on meetings. I don't get my partner until later today." I smiled grimly up at him, "I did… I mean I saw… _her_. Just for a moment, though."

"Oh," Blaise was the only person I had trusted enough to tell. He knew when he should talk, and when to just keep his trap shut, and he never once judged me. "Did you talk to her at all?"

"No, she didn't even notice me, and she walked away before I could call out to her. You work with her right, in her office at the Wizengamot? Do you ever talk to her, how is she?"

"I don't work with her that often, mate, and I don't speak with her that much either. I'm sorry."

"Is she… you know…" I pointed to his wedding band.

"No, she isn't." He seemed a little uncomfortable answering this, and he averted his eyes, opting to look at the ceiling instead of at me. What the hell did he have to be uncomfortable about, unless he was hiding something from me, but I chose not to push him for it.

My voice was barely more than a whisper now. "Is she happy?"

"I don't know, I really don't know. If you miss her this much, why don't you just try talking to her?"

"After what I did, I doubt she'd want to talk to me ever again. I broke my promise to her, I told her that I would be waiting for her in London when she got home, but I wasn't."

Blaise seemed to be studying my face, evaluating my features and it looked like he was contemplating the color of my eyes, or something of the sort, because he took a few extra seconds just staring at them for some unknown reason, until he chose to speak again. "Then why did you leave in the first place?"

"Because I was stupid, I was young and stupid!" It took all of my power not to yell at him. "I just couldn't handle it; once my father died I didn't know what to think anymore. When he chose not to come with us, I convinced myself that it was because he didn't love us anymore. But when I got the news that he died, and that he had tried to change, spent the last few years of his life regretting everything that he had done, I was torn. And Hermione, I couldn't let her see me like that, I loved her too much and she saw right through me."

Then it hit me. Pansy was right; I was a coward that couldn't deal with every little bad thing that happened to fall upon me. And it had taken me six goddamn years to figure out what Pansy had seen instantly.

I could tell that Blaise was getting frustrated with me, for his voice rose just a little. "Did you really expect her to wait around for you when you decided to grow up and come back? Not everything happens the way you want it to, you have to learn to think before you act because one day it's going to come back and bit you in the ass, and you won't be able to run away when it happens!"

"I _know_ that!" I roared. Some people looked over at me curiously because of all the noise I was making, so I lowered it back to a harsh whisper, "Don't you think I know that by now. My God, why does everyone feel the need to remind me of this!"

"There's a difference between knowing, and admitting, mate." He stood up and gave my shoulder a squeeze, and walked away.

Between the two of them, I had had enough reunions for one day.

I stood up and made my way over to my mother, their words haunting me. I need some time alone to process everything. I knew there was something I was missing; something that Blaise had known yet chose not to tell me, I had known him for too long.

I gave my mother a kiss on the cheek and aparated out before she could protest to my leaving.

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**AN: Again you guys, so sorry this took so long to get out, I was going to have it out over the weekend, but I had a depressing day. We had to put a horse down at work that was very old and very sick, yet we all loved her. Suffice it to say, it took me a thing of Ben and Jerry's and a Grey's Anatomy marathon to get this down. All reviews are always greatly appreciated and loved, they really motivate me to write more, and I promise a sneak peak to anyone who leaves a **_**signed**_** review. Now because this took me so long (and I still feel awful) I'm going to give you all a little present.**** Anyone who who leaves a review (signed of course) will not only get a sneak peak, but, they will be able to ask one question(it could be about **_**anything**_** you want, doesn't even have to be about the story) and I'll answer it for you. **

**Next Chapter: Six Years Ago – Hermione's POV**


	6. Chapter 6

**Vienna**

**Chapter 6**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**AN: Just a little warning, I do throw in a few curses here and there, but not a significant amount. I'm sorry if it may offend you, but I felt it necessary for the story, and they probably will be cursing a lot more in future chapters, but it won't get so bad that I would have to change the rating. Once more thank to you all my lovely reviewers, this is all for you guys, I love you all. And my beta Anna, she's the absolute best, especially for putting up with my emailing issues. **

**fOUZIA, I'm going to respond to your question here.  
Q: ****I am french so I don't understand your story with the horse!! Are you student and you take care of animal?****  
A: First of all, of course I don't think your question is stupid. Yes I am a full time student, but I work part time with horses, taking care of them, at a barn. The place where I work had to put a horse to sleep because she got very sick and was in a lot of pain. It was sad for everybody who knew her, and it was hard for me to write because I was so upset. I hope that makes more sense for you. **

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**Chapter 6: Six years ago**

**_Hermione Granger_**

_(Last Time)_

_Something moved in front of my chair, cutting off my sun and casting a shadow over me. A dreaded voice that I would recognize anywhere spoke, "Oi, Granger, you're sitting in my chair." _

_Slowly, I lowered my sunglasses down my nose, looking up at none other than a smirking Draco Malfoy. You had got to be kidding me._

_This was going to be a very long summer. _

"Well, Granger, I'm waiting." I continued to ignore him as he stood impatiently at the foot of my chair. "Come on mudblood, you're stinking up the place."

I snapped the book shut at the mention of that filthy, degrading name. "Oh that's rich coming from a smelly old shoe brush like you. But I'm sorry, _ferret_, did you say something?"

"I said, I would like my chair back."

"_Your _chair? I don't see your name on it." He drew out his wand and I instinctively went for mine, pulling it out from underneath me and pointing it at him. Instead of pointing it at me, as I would have expected him to, he lowered it so it was in the direction of the foot of the chair, where in neat cursive writing 'Malfoy' was now spelled out.

"Now, if you don't mind," he flicked his wand once more and I was flipped off the chair unceremoniously by some unseen force. "I believe that this belongs to _me_," he said with a smirk plastered on his face.

I could have hexed him, it would have been all too easy for me, but instead I chose to conjure another chair for myself when I was sure no muggles were watching. Under my breath, I grumbled, "all you had to do was say 'please'," while he just stood there with that infuriating smirk on his face. I took my newly conjured chair and moved it a good fifty feet away from him. I wasn't about to let him ruin a perfectly good day.

I laid down across the chair and reopened my book, fuming. Leave it to Malfoy to show up during my first vacation away from the wizarding world. What was he even _doing_ here, did he not torture me enough during school? But I was not going to let him get to me. No, I was going to ignore him, and maybe just one small hex wouldn't hurt if he tried anything.

I looked over at him. He had taken out an emerald green towel and spread it over his chair, as he pulled his tee-shirt over his head and threw it on the sand behind him. I couldn't help but stare at him and his body. For the love of Merlin, he was gorgeous. His platinum blond hair shone brilliantly under the blazing sunlight, messily hanging in his face that only accentuated the sharp point of his chin. In this light, his eyes were a shockingly bright blue, instead of the harsh gray I had remembered them to be. All his years of playing quidditch seemed to have paid off, for his muscles look hard, white and sculptured to the perfection as the marble of Michelangelo's David. He was one good looking hunk of make flesh, pureblood wizard or not.

Oh dear God, why was I thinking about him like that? No, it was _Malfoy_. I should not be thinking about him like that. He was the bloody son of a Death Eater, for God's sake. No, absolutely not.

But I just couldn't seem to tear my face away from him, and he noticed my blatant staring as his lips slowly curved upward into a sly smile. He looked like the freaking Cheshire Cat, grinning like that, if I was lucky, maybe he'd just disappear. "Like what you see, Granger," He called out to me. I narrowed my eyes at him before turning my head the other way. "You don't look so bad yourself, if I must say so. A right lot better than those Hogwarts robes, they didn't nearly show enough skin. You should really think about wearing that thing every day."

His taunting was getting on my last nerves, and I drew my wand, pointing it in the direction of his face. "Shut it Malfoy or I'll turn you into a tea cozy."

"My my, no need to be violent. I guess mudbloods really don't have any manners after all. You never did tell me what you were doing here, and without Scarehead and Weasel attached to your hip." I was growing increasingly more frustrated, and if he didn't shut his trap soon, I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to control myself. "How are they even faring without you, the two of them together barley make up one functioning brain."

Finally, I snapped at him, I had had enough of his crap. "I _said_ shut it! _Silencio_!" My spell hit him dead on, and his face flushed a dangerous red, he looked as if he was ready to explode. No doubt he would have if he could talk.

I smiled triumphantly, basking in the glow of my victory.

Unfortunately, in my moment of personal glory, I had forsaken my schooling and completely forgotten about casting non-verbal charms.

Bullocks.

Once more he waved his wand quicker than I could. "You'll pay for that, you filthy little mudblood." My fingers started shaking involuntarily, stupid goddamn jelly-fingers curse. I couldn't keep hold on my wand, and Malfoy's smug smile spread across his face as he went to cast another spell.

I concentrated, with all the will I could muster, until I could feel the wandless magic flowing freely through my body. The energy it possessed made my skin tingle, until I felt everything settle in my shaking fingertips. With this magic, I was able to reverse his magic, and my fingers stopped shaking. "Accio wand," I said, and my wand flew right into my hands.

"_Furnuncu-_" he started, but I was quicker.

"_Expelliarmus_!" I shouted, and with a bright jet of yellow light, Malfoy's wand flew out of his hand, and I summoned it to myself. "_Petrificus totalus_."

His body immediately froze and he was knocked over onto the soft sand from the force of my spell and his lack of being able to move. I knew that I had won this time.

Oh, the sweet smell of victory.

Slowly, I stalked over to him, closing the distance between us. I reached his bound body and couldn't help but smile at my win. I crouched down next to him, so that my body was just about an inch away.

I leaned in closer to his face, "Now, I give you two choices. You can stop speaking to me and leave me alone for the remainder of my stay on this God forsaken beach like I told you to do before and we will have no more problems. Or, you can continue to act like a little shit mouth, and I'll leave you here frozen until I decide to return home. Tonight. Do I make myself clear?" My voice left no indication that I should be messed with, and I gave him his own arrogant smile right back to him as I got up and walked away, leaving his wand on the ground next to him.

Once I got back to my own side and laid back down onto my chair, I flicked my wand and he unfroze, jumping up looking frazzled, but he hid it quickly. He shook the sand out of his hair, messing up his already perfectly tasseled locks.

No, wait, I was _not_ going to think about him like that again. So what if he had nice hair, he was still an arrogant prick. It's probably just my hormones anyway.

"Bitch," I heard him mumble as he continued to shake the sand out of his hair.

The mature thing to do would be to just ignore that, turn my head and go on with my reading like I didn't even hear it. So that's why I did, I cast a shield around myself so Malfoy couldn't bother me and pulled my sunglasses back down onto my nose.

But I couldn't stop myself from stealing small glances back over to him, every now and then. Even when I knew that I shouldn't be looking at him, it was almost as if that part of my body had become suddenly independent of my brain as was acting on its own accord.

And the even more disturbing part, I _wanted_ to keep looking.

Though he was still an arrogant, self-righteous, muggle-loathing, son-of-a-death-eater-git, he was a damn good looking arrogant, self-righteous, muggle-loathing, son-of-a-death-eater-git. Bloody ironic, if you ask me.

For someone who had taken time to make sure I was constantly degraded and put down during my years at school (I touched my two front teeth and shuddered at the memory), sitting there, right now, he just looked so… peaceful.

In all the time I had taken just staring at him, I hadn't even thought about what he was doing here, at the same exact time as me, in the house directly next door. It's no secret he hates muggles, yet this is a completely muggle town, I doubt there'd be any wizards here. Was this some kind of sick joke, a cruel coincidence, or were there actually some kind of greater forces out there that made this happen? Clearly, if there were some kind of greater powers, they were out to get me. Why else would they send me out here, for kicks?

From what I had heard, between Harry and the Order, the Malfoys had supposedly been in hiding for the past two years, but I was never told where. Logically, I could only assume that this was where. It was completely remote, there was no chance that Voldemort would have found them here, or even thought to have looked in a muggle town. But if their names had been cleared for months, what were they still doing here? Somehow, they didn't quite strike me as the type of people who were into simplicity, having seen the size of their manor, or at least the size of the sitting room that Bellatrix had chosen to torture me in.

I shook my head, like that simple action could clear my head and stop my thoughts and shake them out, but it was no such luck, his face seemed to be etched into my brain like it didn't plan on going anywhere anytime soon.

Why was he doing this to me! I hated that bloody prat, and I was pretty damn sure he hated me too.

Not only did I hate him, but I hated what he was doing to me without even realizing it. My god, I must be losing it, it's the only explanation.

And no matter how many times I told myself not to think about him, not to look over in his direction, the less I seemed to be able to stop myself. Luckily he wasn't looking or paying any attention to me; I don't think I would have been able to restrain myself from doing anything drastic if he had kept on trying anything.

Why did I have to overanalyze every little thing, twist everything to make it so much more complicated then it could have been? Why couldn't I just accept that he was here, without trying to guess why, and acknowledge that he was somewhat attractive, okay maybe more than somewhat attractive, but I'm a teenager, I'm supposed to be attracted to the opposite sex, there was nothing wrong there.

"Dammit, get a hold of yourself Hermione," I growled to myself before shaking my head one last time and laying my head back against my chair.

The sun was making my eyes grow heavy, until I couldn't hold them open much longer and I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**_Draco Malfoy_**

I need to get off of this damn beach already.

It's not like its bad enough being surrounded by filthy muggles constantly, but now know-it-all mudblood Granger has decided to grace me with her presence.

Bloody fantastic.

Her face, though, when I forced her off that chair was priceless. She was so livid, she looked like she was ready to skin me, alive. Truth is, it wasn't even my chair, but it's always been fun to push her buttons, as long as she didn't push back. Probably not the best idea to get on the wrong end of her wand, or fist. I knew if we were in a public place, goody-two-shoes-Granger wouldn't want to cause a scene, for risk of exposure. These muggles were too damn dense anyway to even notice little displays of magic, completely oblivious of my kind. But there were always memory charms for the smarter ones, just as a precaution.

I claimed my chair by laying a towel across it and pulling my shirt over my head to get some sun, which wouldn't be any different from what I had done yesterday, or the day before that, or for the past effing year or so.

Though I couldn't stand being around the muggles in the beginning, which hasn't changed that drastically, the only other thing to do around here was to explore. But there was only so much I could explore around here before I ran out of beach, and our concealment charms only spread so far, for my mother's sake I couldn't risk stepping outside of them.

My mother adapted much quicker then I had expected her to. Within the first few days, she had relaxed much more than I had ever seen her, and she no longer had to hide who she was. She was free to be my mother, the mother I had loved when I was a little boy, not the cold one who had to stand obediently behind my father like a trained dog. She was no longer frail looking, and she appeared healthier, fuller of life then I had ever seen, with the knowledge that I was safe and more importantly, alive. There were moments, however small and fleeting, when she would look at a picture of my father, or tell a story about their younger days, when she would get a distant look in her eye filled with misery and longing and I knew at the moment she was never fully okay because she was missing a part of who she was. Quicker then it appeared it was always gone once she looked over at me, and she was back to her strong and loving self.

I looked over into the direction of the sun. One of the better things about this place was the sun, and I had always loved the effect it had on me, its heat seeping down through my skin and into my cold bones, filling me with heat from the inside out. Nothing could compare to that heat. It wasn't like a blanket with a heating charm cast around it, or the hand of another's wrapped in yours, it was pure, unadulterated heat in its most natural form and it was something I craved, I needed to feel. It's almost as if my body was trying to make up for what it had missed all those years. Everything up until now had been cold; nothing at the manor could come close to it, hidden in a dark forest surrounded by trees, the Slytherin common rooms under the lake, the daunting face of the Dark Lord that still lingered in a distant part of my mind.

My gaze caught something else, as I looked down the beach. Granger was staring open mouthed at me as I laid myself down. Would it kill her to shut her trap? Though I was used to the staring from other girls, especially the muggle girls who would wander down the beach, it was surprising to have Granger look at me like this. _But_, her newfound appreciation for my looks could work to my advantage, maybe if she was too stunned by me she wouldn't react to my teasing. It was worth a try.

I must really have no life.

"Like what you see, Granger? You don't look so bad yourself, if I must say so. A right lot better than those Hogwarts robes, they didn't nearly show enough skin. You should really think about wearing that thing every day." She actually didn't look too terrible. I had never really gotten the chance to get a good look at her, and now that I could she looked different from what I remember. To me she had always been little mudblood Granger with teeth too big and hair that looked more like a giant fur ball. After the, uh, incident in fourth year her teeth were down to a normal size, no longer buck-toothed, and her hair was no longer a bush mess, instead it feel in soft waves down her back and shined a golden brown in the sun.

Hold up, it was just Granger, and while she may have _some_ redeeming qualities, she was still an infuriating pain in my ass, she was an intolerable, know-it-all bint and I had hated her since the minute I stepped into Hogwarts a little more than seven years ago. Snap out of it, Draco.

"Shut it Malfoy or I'll turn you into a tea cozy." She drew her wand on me, but I knew it was an empty threat. With a beach full of muggles, she wouldn't likely try anything.

I almost laughed at her, but I knew that might not be a good idea, but I still smirked at her frustration, "My my, no need to be violent. I guess mudbloods really don't have any manners after all. You never did tell me what you were doing here, and without Scarehead and Weasel attached to your hip. How are they even faring without you, the two of them together barley make up one functioning brain." Granger I could deal with, but if her two body guards dumb and dumber decided to suddenly pop out, I don't think I would be able to handle that.

I didn't think she was going try anything, so her spell took me by surprise and before I knew my mouth was sealed shut and I couldn't utter a syllable. That filthy mudblood bitch! Oh, she was going to pay for this. She was sitting triumphantly, her lips spread into a large grin with a smug look on her face. She obviously thought she had won this, but oh how wrong she was. With a simple non-verbal spell I reversed her silencing charm and cast my own jelly-fingers hex at her so she couldn't hold her wand.

Now _I _had her where I wanted her.

I raised my wand and started to cast another spell when she was weak and unarmed. During my years at Hogwarts, everyone knew that she had been the 'brightest witch of her age', but what they hadn't known was that I was right behind her in my marks.

I went to cast my spell, the words already forming on my lips, but with some form of wandless magic that I had never been able to work, she had managed to summon her wand back to herself and disarm me before I could finish.

"_Petrificus totalus_," I heard her yell. My entire body became ridged, and I fell to the ground with a dull 'thud'. I could still see, but I couldn't move my eyes, and I could still hear. And then I saw and heard _her_, and I had never wished more in my life that I could cures her right there. "Now, I give you two choices," she started, "You can stop speaking to me and leave me alone for the remainder of my stay on this God forsaken beach like I told you to do before and we will have no more problems. Or, you can continue to act like a little shit mouth, and I'll leave you here frozen until I decide to return home. Tonight. Do I make myself clear?"

She sounded so serious, I had never seen this side of her before, and I didn't think I wanted to test her to see what she would do. Something told me that she would cast much stronger spells next time I tried.

When she unfroze me, my hair was covered in sand and I was still just getting the feeling back in all of me as I shook it out. "Bitch" I said under my breath and hoped to Merlin she didn't hear me. I saw her cast a shield around herself, unnoticeable to the muggles but I could see the slight disruption in the air, as there was a very small hazy bubble surrounding her.

I tried not to look at her, instead opting to stare out at the ocean, but I could feel her looking at me. It was like a prickling sensation on the back of my neck that wouldn't go away. I knew that I shouldn't look back at her, but her gaze was almost calling for me, and I wanted to look back at her.

From the corner of my eyes and I could see her shaking her head, brows furrowed deep in thought. She was biting her bottom lip in her concentration, her two front teeth peeking over the tops of her full lips. At some point her eyes started to droop shut, and her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and I could tell she was asleep. All the worry and thought that had occupied her face before had disappeared, and she looked so at ease and peaceful.

I turned my face back out toward the water, I had to keep my mind off of her before the weight of my thoughts caused my brain to implode. I hated Granger, with every fiber of my being, but something about her was still calling to me.

I _had_ to stop this.

…………………………………….

I couldn't stop.

For the love of Merlin, I knew I shouldn't be looking, I kept telling myself that I needed to stop, but not five minutes later I just found myself looking at her again.

All effing day long.

At some point in the day, the sky started to darken, and threatening black clouds started to roll across the clear blue sky, and it casted an ominous feeling over the beach as the high tide started to creep in as well, rising so it was about level with her chair.

Yet she made no move to wake.

As the sky darkened, the water started to mirror it, and grow increasingly choppy. The waves crashed down with a much greater force onto the sand, and if she didn't wake up soon, it would surely pull her out into the water.

All I could do was watch her, though I felt as if I _should_ be doing something. I tried to call out to her, wave my arms to get her attention, but her shield protected her, and she stayed deep in slumber.

Ever so slowly, the water rose, and in one big wave she was swept up into the current and pulled under the harsh waves. A crack of lightening flashed across the sky as a bang of thunder followed as it sounded off in the distance and resonated across the beach.

She woke up them, sputtering out water as she tried to stay above the water level. Every time she managed to get above the water another wave would just pull her back under and she would drift further from the shore.

I stood frozen at the shore line, and I couldn't do anything with her shield still up. But I could tell that if I didn't do anything soon, she wouldn't last much longer.

Her head snapped toward me and my eyes locked with hers, flooded with fear, begging me to come save her.

Something, I don't know what, happened when I looked into her eyes, it was like I could see right into her core, the deepest most region of her being. This intense need to _save_ her, protect her, came over me, so unexpected, from some deep hidden place that I didn't know existed that it _pained_ me each time a wave pulled her under. From somewhere deep down in my chest I felt this strong pull, and its foreignness was frightening, yet at the same time oddly exhilarating that I felt as if I could do anything.

And at that moment, I needed to save her.

* * *

**AN: Okay, please don't hate me, but I had to end it there. The next update should be within the next week. So far, that was my longest chapter. Remember anyone who leaves a **_**signed**_** review will get an answer and a sneak peak at the next chapter. Also, if you have any questions, you can always ask and I'll make sure to answer you, but only if it doesn't give too much away. **

**Next Chapter: Six Years Ago**


	7. Chapter 7

**Vienna**

**Chapter 7**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**AN: I just wanted to thank all my lovely reviewers; you guys mean the world to me, and as always my amazingly talented beta, Anna. **

**Chapter 7: Six Years Ago**

**_Draco Malfoy_**

A terrible feeling of helplessness was slowly descending upon me.

She was getting smaller in my vision each time I failed to counteract the shield she had cast around herself, and I was exhausting my options each time her shield refused to disappeared. She just had to be brightest witch of her age didn't she, casting a shield that was probably impossible for anyone but herself to undo.

The winds were picking up now, my hair blowing with it as it violently ripped across my face. Another wave started to swell, dark waters foaming as it rose higher into the heavens and loomed over her like a hand that was just waiting to reach down and grab her. It kept on growing, until I could no longer distinguish from it and the sky, a rippling curtain, black as the stormy plane above, as it cascaded down on top of her.

Her head sunk under the surface from the impact, and it didn't come back up this time.

Sheer fear overcame me, and it felt like someone had taken my chest and set a bag of bricks on it. I had to act fast, with a flourish of my wand I shouted the last counter-hex I knew. Thankfully the disruption in the air that had surrounded her disappeared and I let the breath I didn't know I had been holding out in relief.

The water was a malevolent pitch black, a reflection of the sky. "_Lumos_," I muttered, and a bright light erupted from the tip of my wand, illuminating the sky and casting an eerie glow across the water.

I stuck my wand in my mouth and dove in. The coldness of the water was as sharp as knives, and it stung my skin. My wand only provided a few feet of light as I swam, eyes desperately in search of her barley clothing clad body. If she didn't drown, she would surely die of hypothermia.

The rough waters pulled my body around, and I swam down deeper where I assumed she would have sunk to. Something pale and delicate flashed in front of my face for a split second, and I lunged for it. My hand came to wrap around a wrist, and it jerked at the sudden contact. I lowered myself, and came face to face with her, eyes still wide and cheeks puffed out in attempt to hold her breath. The fear that her eyes had held was replaced by relief and gratitude, and… something else, but before I could identify it, it was gone. I took her arms and wrapped them around my waist, locking her fingers together and she hung there for dear life, fingers digging into the skin of my side where my shirt had ridden up.

I swam up and over, and our heads broke the surface. She immediately opened her mouth, letting the air expel from her lungs that she had been keeping in and started gasping for new air. I looked around and noticed that we were close to the shore, but another wave was closing in. I pulled us back under the water as the wave crashed over our heads, and it aided in pushing us closer to the beach where the water was shallower.

Standing up, I grabbed her hand and dragged her through the water as she stumbled for her balance, wand still securely in my mouth before transferring it into my hand, leading our way. Something about her hand enclosed in mine, made my fingers burn like fire, dangerous but so mesmerizing that you just had to reach out and touch it, that I didn't want to let go.

My feet were touching the wet sand of the shoreline, we were so close. I turned around to check on her, and my breath caught in my throat. She stopped, a perplexed look etched on her face as a result of my sudden halt. In the light of my wand she looked… absolutely, breathtakingly, stunning, a goddess rising out of the waves of the water or a fallen angel that had just landed right at my feet. The wind blew her hair erratically around her head, covering half of her porcelain face. Her skin was a creamy pale white, and looked like it would be silk to the touch, and her black barley-there bikini blended into the night sky behind her. I wanted nothing more than to just reach out and brush my hand against the exposed skin of her flat stomach…

The pull of her hand reminded me to keep moving, and I snapped out of my thoughts, thankful that she had before I had gone and done something I would regret. What in the bloody hell had come over me just now? It was that strange feeling I had felt earlier today, the pulling and constricting of my chest that was accompanied by the pained ache from somewhere inside of me I didn't know I had. I knew that it was a dangerous feeling to be having, like it could only lead to trouble, but why, I didn't know.

Rain was pounding down on our backs in buckets as we finally made it out of harm's way of the waves and onto the soft, if not wet, sand of the beach. I signed with relief that she had made it out safely, thanking whatever Gods that actually existed. The realization of what had just happened must have finally hit her, for before I knew it, she had slammed herself into my chest, hands balled into fists and clinging desperately onto my shirt like I was going to disappear on her. She was sobbing, and her shoulders were shaking violently, racked with the weight of her sobs.

The heat I had felt when I was holding her hand was nothing compared to the intense burning feeling that coursed through my body when she was hugging me. She was like… having my own personal sun, she was the heat I had so desperately craved all those years but had never gotten.

I didn't know what to do, I had always tended to avoid any crying girls. Should I comfort her, hug her back or give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder? I did the first thing that came to mind, I wrapped my arms protectively around her, bringing her closer into me and relishing in her warmth against the bitter cold of the night's air. Mudblood Granger or not, she just looked so broken, so weak, and I couldn't bear to see her that frail.

Another flash of lightening and clap of thunder reminded me that, unless we wanted to get fried, we had to get into some kind of shelter. I looked over the top of her head, which my chin was resting on, to get a hold of my surroundings. The current had obviously pushed us down the beach, how far I wasn't sure of. There weren't many houses down at this end, but we couldn't be more than two miles away from our houses, but it would have taken too long in this weather to walk back quickly.

I spotted a small shed about fifty feet away. Perfect.

She wasn't crying as heavily anymore, and her head was now resting on my chest, my arms still around her waist. Not wanting to break our embrace, I leaned my head down to whisper into her ear, "Granger, come on, we have to get out of the storm." She lifted her head off my chest and looked up at my face. Stepping away from my body, she grabbed my hand and nodded her head feebly, a few lone tears still creeping out of the corners of her eyes and blending with the rain as they ran down her face. I had to fight the urge to reach out and wipe them away.

We walked hand in hand against the strong winds until we reached the shed. I gave the door a few hard pulls before it swung open on its hinges before she ran inside and I slammed it shut behind us, making sure it was secure before I turned to face her.

Standing in the middle of the shed, she looked shell socked and slightly confused, like she had just figured out who I was. "You saved me." It was more of a statement then a question.

I stood, leaning against the door for support and facing her, but I couldn't bear to look her in the eyes for fear of what I might have found there. "Yes I did."

"Why?" she breathed out quietly.

"I…" I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Why did I save her, I didn't even know myself. It was like a reflect, or an instinct.

Only then did I choose to look her in the eyes. They were still filled with that same gratitude I had seen under the water. In all the years I had known her, I had never taken any time to look into her eyes, they were positively mesmerizing orbs of light honey brown. When you had been taught to hate somebody your entire life, you couldn't really look at them for who they were, or even see them clearly. Who really needed affection when you had blind hatred?

Whoa there, who the hell said anything about affection? It was instinct, _just_ instinct.

This was getting a little too personal for my liking, so I did the only thing I knew how to do, I got mean. "You're not as vile as I thought you were." Instantly I regretted saying that as I saw hurt flash through her eyes before she removed all expression from them, blocking me out. Since when did I regret anything I had ever said to her, and I've said much worse things?

"What is it, Asshole Day?" she sneered.

I knew I had started this, but I was getting defensive, it was a second nature to me. "Well, someone has her knickers in a twist."

She snorted, a very unlady-like sound, "Don't, for one minute, think that you had any affect whatsoever on my knickers." Walking over to where a few volleyball nets were lying over the ground, she laid herself out across them.

I took a seat on the other side of the ten by ten shed, and decided to play along for a little bit, it's not like she had her wand, what was the worst she could do, "Oh yea, then what did I have an effect on?"

"Other than my upchuck reflex, nothing." She smiled up at me, but it wasn't a feel-good, warm your heart smile. It was forced and fake, and I knew I had caused it. Nice going there, Draco.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

**_Hermione Granger_**

"Come on Granger, just take the damn blanket already."

"No, I'm fine without it," I tried to tell him, but my clattering teeth gave me away, and I shivered again. But instead of turning to him and accepting his help, I continued to ignore him.

"Well then don't come crying to me when you get pneumonia, and don't say I didn't try to help." He ran his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated.. "Look, I don't like being stuck in this God awful _shit hole_ any more than you do, but this storm doesn't look like its planning on letting up any time tonight, so will you _please_, for the love of Merlin, just take this before you freeze and my reason for saving you, the reason we're _stuck_ out here, becomes pointless."

I gave him a look that was supposed to be threatening, but it didn't come off nearly as terrifying as I had hoped, due to the fact that my shoulders were shaking uncontrollably. "I don't _need_ your help."

"You looked like you needed it out in the water, and you looked pretty damn grateful on that beach when you refused to let go of me."

"My brain was oxygen starved, it doesn't count, and I didn't know what I was thinking. For all I know you could have been Harry or Ron." I tried to rationalize myself, but who was I kidding? I knew very well that it was Malfoy I had been clutching not too long ago.

"Ouch, comparing me to the two Witless-Wonders hurts. Now, either you take the blanket or we'll have to resort to body heat to keep each other warm. The choice is yours." He was smirking again, I swear that thing was permanently suck on his face as he winked at me. I snatched the offending piece of fabric out of his hands and retreated into another back corner as he took his place in his own, while we continued to glare at each other.

So far, the only thing we had accomplished was pretty much nothing, nothing would ever get done between the two of us if we kept sitting on our bums. And he seemed to be right, the storm didn't look to be clearing up anytime soon. If anything, it felt worse.

Out of the blue, he asked, "Why don't we play a game?" Holly hell, where had _that_ come from? I didn't answer him, but he kept on talking away. "Well then, I guess I'll go first." Was he really taking this seriously, or was this just another way for him to get on my nerves? "Let's see… so many things to do, and… wait a minute, we have all the time in the world."

"Malfoy, I would rather be trapped inside the shrieking shack with a troll and three dementors then be here, playing _games_ with you right now. All the time in the world is not going to change that."

He was smiling now, not his usual smirk, it looked so strange on his face, yet it made him look slightly angelic. "How bout we play matchmaker?" he joked, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I made a choking sound, my voice taking on a sarcastic tone "Am I that transparent? I want you, I _need_ you, oh baby, oh baby. Come off it, that's such a load of bullshit."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Granger."

There was something off about Malfoy, and the constant change in his attitude was so unexpected and random that it was making me dizzy. One minute we were at each other's throats, and the next he was risking his life to save me. And then there was something in his eyes I saw when he hugged me, it was new and unfamiliar and slightly unnerving, but it made his eyes sparkle without the aid of the sun.

When he had whispered into my ear I felt shivers of excitement dance throughout my body, feathery light in the pit of my stomach followed by an odd sensation like suddenly everything inside of me had become weightless and then just dropped.

I thought - I could have sworn - that he had changed, even the tiniest amount, I mean he was _hugging _me, comforting me. But who was I kidding, he probably only saved me because he felt he had to.

Once inside the shed, he started acting even more strange, he looked… pained… the entire time. Like there was something truly heinous about having to be in such close proximity with me. But then he would go and do something like giving me the only blanket here so that I could stay warm. I couldn't keep up with him.

I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. I could feel him looking every few minutes; he had been doing that a lot since we got in here. Sometimes he would open his mouth like he was going to say something, but then shut it tightly deciding against it.

He was doing it again.

"Oh for the love of Merlin, if you have something to say just _say_ it!" He was now looking at me head on, mouth still open in surprise. I guess he hadn't expected me to say anything, or to even have noticed, "What, didn't your parents ever teach you that it's rude to stare?"

His eyes wanted to say something but it was lost the moment I blinked. Glaring at him, wrapped in his blanket, reminded me of when I gave him that right hook in third year. Now that was priceless! Hold up, rewind and back up Granger, get your mind off of that git. I had to come up with a way to pass the time in this shed until the storm broke.

He shut is mouth and narrowed his eyes at me, "Didn't your parents ever teach you to respect your superiors?"

"That's original _ferret_, couldn't come up with something better or do you think that those pathetic lines you used three years ago worked then too?"

"Nobody asked your opinion, mudblood." I turned around to face him, and our eyes locked in a silent battle of the wills, just daring each other to break contact. I had spent more time looking into his eyes in the past day then I had in my entire life.

"Call me that name one more time, Malfoy, and I'll…" I started to threaten but he cut me off.

"And you'll what?" He laughed. "And with what wand are you going to use? Now, do you _really_ want to finish that sentence, Granger? Just keep that big bushy head down for the rest of the night and we won't be having anymore problems."

I shut my mouth when he finished speaking, and he smiled obviously thinking that he had been the one to get the last word in. Instead, my lips curved upward into a malicious little grin. "What are you smiling at, Granger?" He asked me.

"Oh, nothing," I answered. "Just thinking about a little something that happened a few years ago."

"And what might that be?" He smirked, quirking an eyebrow at me.

"Does Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret ring any bells for you?" His smirk dropped. "Twitchy little ferret, weren't you, Malfoy?" It seemed that we had both hit a spot.

"You shouldn't be talking, mudblood. If looks were gold, you'd be poorer then Weasly, and that's saying something."

Anger started to boil inside of me, "I _told _you not to say that!" I shrieked before I lunged myself at him, talking him by surprise, for the second time that day. Even if I didn't have my wand, I figured that brute force plus the element of surprise on my side would be enough to disarm him.

Of course it wasn't.

He may have been surprised, but after the initial shock wore off he was definitely stronger then I was. By the time my body had reached his, he had caught me by my wrists, spun me around so I was facing him, and slammed me against the wall with my arms pinned above my head.

His body was no more than a hair's breath away from me, and I could feel the sinewy cords of his muscles pressing against my stomach, eliciting the same weightless fluttering that I had felt before when he was hugging me. My heart started racing inside of my chest, the erratic beating mixing with my labored breaths that were coming out in short gasps, and I could feel the same irregular rising and falling of his chest against mine as well. The fluttering turned into a heated constriction in my core, causing a dull throbbing to appear.

Shit. This was wrong, so very, very wrong.

I couldn't look into his eyes. Was it for fear of what I would find there? Was I scared of what I might see? I was scared of what I was feeling, that was for sure, they were so new, and that made them all the more terrifying. I knew, that whatever… reactions… my body was going through was a fight or flight response, and I wasn't going anywhere.

Stupid, bloody, problem-causing hormones.

He released one raised arm, allowing it to fall to my side, but he didn't give any indication of moving away from me. One of his own hands raised, and a rough finger placed itself under my chin, forcing my head up and our eyes to lock. His radiant, ice-blue eyes had darkened with lust combined with hunger and longing in a silent plea. My other arm now fell to my side as the hand that had just been restraining it moved to cup my cheek. Without realizing it, my head was leaning into his touch, my eyes fighting to stay open.

I knew it was wrong, yet something about it seemed so _natural_, I felt safe, protected… loved. I shook my head at that last thought; this was nothing more than the heat of the moment.

Just when I thought that I wouldn't last much longer, his lips crashed down on top of mine in a frenzy of heated passion. Not a word was said between us, but we know in our most basic, primal level that we craved _this_. This animalistic act that defied all of society's constraints and limitations. It wasn't about what was right and what was wrong; it was all about what we needed.

And we so desperately needed each other.

His tongue flicked across my bottom lip, and I immediately opened my mouth to allow him access. Our tongues started to dance for dominance, weaving in and out in attempt to gain the upper hand.

My arms came to wrap around his neck, fingers settling in the silky strands of his hair, grabbing it and pulling him closer to me, needing to feel is body against mine, needing to feel him in me. It was like I wasn't complete without him, a part of me was dull and void and it _needed_ to be filled. At the same time, his hand moved at torturously slow place down my side. Each place his fingers touched tingled with little sparks of energy that lingered on my bare skin. That hand continued to move, past my bottom and down my thigh, until my leg was being hoisted up and wrapped around his waist.

He let out a deep, guttural moan which caused shivers to travel up my spine and make my body shiver, but not with coldness, with excitement. I wasn't cold anymore, far from it. All I could feel was heat. The type of heat that existed only in the pits of hell guarded by Beelzebub himself.

Soul consuming.

Leaving his hair, my hands traveled to the hem of his shirt, slowly pulling it over his head before throwing it off to the side. I ran my fingers up his chest as he continued to kiss me, causing him to moan into my mouth with pleasure again. I paused when he went to the straps of my bathing suit, he was looking into my eyes for permission.

Was I really ready for this? Ready to give myself away to someone, especially when that someone was Draco Malfoy?

Yes, I was.

I nodded by head in approval, and his lips reclaimed mine before his hands worked on the strings that held my top up, until he had removed it and freed me of my constraints.

He picked me up and carried me, never once breaking our kiss, to the blanket that was lying on the floor.

And then, with every fiber of my being, I gave myself to Draco Malfoy.

Every last part of me.

* * *

***Runs and hides for cover while waving a white flag* **

**AN: Don't kill me! Think about it this way, if you do, you'll never get to know what happens next ;) I hope I don't make Hermione sound too repetitive, but remember that she is very confused at this point, and she's in the process of trying to sort out her thoughts and rationalize her actions. So… just click on that little review button (come on, you know you want to) and tell me what you think. Also tell me if you would like a real lemon or not. For future reference, I'm not big on lemons, but I'll write them if you guys want me to. So when you leave your review (hint hint ;) ) tell me if you would like lemons or not. I'll go by a majority vote, but I will have to up the rating if I do, so you'll know. Anyone who leaves a signed review will get a sneak peak. **

**Next Chapter: Hermione POV**

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Vienna**

**Chapter 8**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**AN: So I'm only raising the rating because I do tend to curse, and I don't want to offend anyone. The vote was pretty much unanimous for a lemon, but I'm not 100% sure yet, so we'll just have to see when the time comes. If I haven't said it enough, I love every single one of you, and of course Anna, my wonderful beta.**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**_Hermione Granger_**

Ginny was pissed.

"Where in the bloody hell are they? It's been two effing hours since they owled, and everyone is getting hungry." She had been pacing around the kitchen for the past hour and a half, uttering a string of profanities as her wand flew around her head and various utensils and foods started to move on their own, obviously done waiting for Harry and Ron to come home from work.

I was sitting at the table, elbows propped up and my head resting between them. "For the love of God, Ginny, you're giving me a migraine. Could you tone it down, just a bit?"

She looked over at me and visibly softened, and lowered herself into a chair beside me. "Oh sweetie, I'm sorry," she said placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, maternal instincts taking over, "what's going on with you? Is everything okay?"

I lifted my head out of my arms, laying them across the table and locking my fingers together. When I looked up, I could see Emma in the next room, playing with the doll she had gotten out of Harry and Ron, and Luna sitting across from her with James in her lap. I sighed turned back to Ginny, saying, "I'm worried about Emma, Gin. I think that girl from her school got to her somehow. She seemed fine right after and yesterday, but I think something's up, when I asked her about it today she wouldn't look at me. Instead she ran away from me, and she's never done that, she tells me everything. We've never really talked about her father before, you know?"

"Yea I do. Hermione, you've never talked to _anyone_ about her father."

"I know," I whispered, unable to face Ginny, "but I don't know what to do." I was ashamed. Ashamed that I had hurt Emma, the only thing in my world that held me together, kept me whole and sane, and kept me going. I was her mother, I was supposed to protect her, not hurt her, and I was failing. She deserved her father, someone besides myself to spoil and love her unconditionally, but I couldn't give that to her, and it broke my heart. She was always so brave, so strong, and it was positively amazing to see that strength, that spark in her because then I knew that at least one of us had a fighting chance.

Ginny gave me my time, one of the things I had always loved about her, before speaking softly again, like I was a piece of glass that was about to shatter given the lightest little prick.

I guess I was.

"You need to talk to her about it, and don't let her run away from you again. She needs to understand how _you_ feel. Emma may be young but she's not stupid, and this isn't healthy for her. If you won't tell us, at least give her that honor. She deserves that much." She looked saddened by this thought; I knew that it hurt her that I didn't trust them enough to tell about that summer, I was just afraid of their reactions.

Now not only was I a failure, I was a coward.

Emma was still playing with her doll, and it looked like she was trying to explain something to poor Luna, who still had James on her, and who was now attempting to scale her back. She didn't look bothered at all right now. In fact, she looked just as a normal five year old should, carefree and void of any worries. She caught my eye and beamed at me, with her toothy grin and radiant blue eyes, she was an exact replica of Draco, and I couldn't help but smile back at her.

"What do I tell her?" I asked, my eyes never leaving my precious angel. Now _I _was starting to sound like the child, but Ginny seemed to understand.

"You tell her that you love her, and you tell her the truth. She's a tough kid, tougher then we realize sometimes. The truth may hurt, but it never needs a defense." Ginny took my hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze, smiling brightly at me. She was always one of those people who had glowed in her pregnancy, and it followed her everywhere, making her more beautiful then she was before, even when her hair was arranged in a messy knot atop her head, and in ancient sweats and a tank top that emphasized her protruding belly.

But after a few seconds her face fell, and she looked at me and tried to smile but it came out awkward and uncomfortable. "Hermione, can I… can I, um, ask you something?"

This was odd behavior for her; nothing ever seemed to faze her. "Sure, uh, shoot." I answered cautiously.

"Do you still love him?" I had not expected that, and its weight knocked the air out of me for a few seconds before I could regain composure.

Did I still love him? Of course I bloody well still loved him, and I missed him every damn second of every damn day. Since the last moment I last saw him I had missed him, had yearned to be back in his arms, to relish in his love for me as well. Or so the love that I had thought was reciprocated.

My eyes flooded with tears, but I wouldn't let them fall. Too much time I spent was crying over him, crying for myself, for my daughter and for my fucked up situation. I couldn't wallow in my self-pity and longer, I had to be strong now.

But one lone tear escaped, and slid down my cheek freely. I didn't make any move to wipe it away.

"Yes, I always have."

"Oh 'Mione," Ginny pulled me into her, wrapping her arms around me as I rested my head on her shoulder. It was such a simple act, but it made me feel loved, cared for. It wasn't the same as one of his hugs, but it made me realize that I wasn't as alone as I thought I was, and that was a comforting idea. "If he means that much to you, why don't you try finding him? What could it hurt?"

"Ginny, _he_ left _me_. What's to say that he won't want me now, won't want Emma? How do I tell her _that_? Her idea of her Dad is someone who is going to come riding in on his big white horse and sweep us off our feet! It would break her heart."

"I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean to ups-" she started, but I cut her off.

"No, its okay – really – I know you're just trying to help."

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Ginny's mouth curved into a sly little smirk. "You know," she started, "there are always other people." Oh no, not this again, I inwardly groaned. For a few years now, Ginny had been trying, with the help of Luna, to set me up on a few dates.

They didn't go over too well. Especially when Emma decided to put on a little fireworks show for them and 'accidentally' light fire to parts of their clothing. Somehow I didn't quite believe it was an accident.

"What if there is nobody else?"

"Then you get cats." She smiled and stared to get up as I laughed. "You okay now?"

"Yea I am," I smiled up at her reassuringly. Okay, so it was a big fat lie, but maybe if I said it enough, it would be true.

She picked up her wand and all the cooking that she had stopped in order to talk to me came whirling back to life. "Really?" she asked.

"Yea, okay-ish."

Ginny wasn't buying it, yet she kept smiling. "That's not okay."

"That's okay with an 'ish'."

"Whatever you say…" she said, laughing, just as Harry and Ron walked through the front door.

James jumped off of Luna and launched himself at Harry, while Ron went over to Luna and placed a kiss on her cheek, ruffling Emma's hair, who looked horrified that someone would mess it up. She was such a little drama queen.

"Gin, we're here. You can stop panicking now." He knew his wife all too well. Harry came into the kitchen and gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek, leaning up against the counter next to her. "Did you make any drinks?"

Oh, Harry, that was not a smart thing to ask a hormonal pregnant woman who had just waited two and a half hours for you.

She turned to him, "Well it took you long enough," she snorted out. "And who the hell do I look like to you, June Cleaver? Get your own damn drink." Harry just smiled at her and gave her another kiss on her temple before summoning a firewhisky, and I could see Ginny smile reluctantly, trying to hide it in the collar of her shirt.

The food was ready within a few minutes time, and with one last flourish of her wand, Ginny had set the entire table for us. "Dinner!" she called out to everyone, and they rushed to the table eagerly.

I was just about to sit down next to Emma, when Ginny started to get up, saying that she had forgotten the chicken on the stove, but I stopped her, saying I would go get it for her.

"So, why are you guys so late tonight," I could hear Luna asking Ron from the next room.

"Oh, mwell, mwe gmot-" Harry started to answer with his mouth full with food, making Emma and James giggle.

"Harry, please," Ginny scolded him, "chew your food first! What kind of example do you want to set for Emma and James? Honestly, you're just as bad as they are."

Emma huffed, "I _always_ chew and swallow my food before I speak, Aunt Ginny," she said pointedly. She smirked at Harry, and at that moment she had never looked more like Draco before. How did nobody ever not notice it before, sometimes it's just so blatantly obvious.

"Of course you do honey," Ginny laughed at her, "I take that back. See Harry, even Emma has better manners then you do."

Harry made a big show of swallowing his food before speaking. "Oh, I don't doubt that, but I can't be that much worse than Ron. Have you seen _him_ eat?"

"Hey!" Ron yelled, but it was no use, seeing as he was trying to talk through a forkful of pasta.

Luna was smiling next to Ron, one hand on his shoulder, trying in vain not to laugh at him, "Have I seen him eat? Harry, I _live _with him. It's absolutely ghastly, to tell the truth." The table erupted in laughter at Ron's expense. "Ronald," she added after seeing Ron's face, "it's only a joke, we still love you." She planted a wet kiss on his cheek, causing James and Harry to exchange disgusted faces.

Harry started to talk once the laughter started to calm down, "So as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…" He looked over at Ginny who stuck her tongue out at him, "oh now who's the child here? Anyway, we ran into bit of a, er, _problem_ at work."

"What kind of problem?" Luna asked, taking a bite of her dinner. "Wait a second, where's Hermione? Hermione?" she called out to me.

In listening to their conversation, I had completely forgotten to bring the chicken back to the table. I turned around in search of the chicken. "Coming!" I called over my shoulder. It was in a large silver pan, and I picked it up on both ends and made my way over.

Ron took over for Harry, "It's not so much of a problem then a royal pain in our asses." At everyone's evident confusion, he went to clarify. "It's just, they couldn't have picked a worse person to partner us with. He held us up with paperwork for at least an extra hour; good for nothing son-of-a-bitch was too lazy to do any of it himself."

"Uncle Ron!" Emma yelled at him, appalled, "You said 'bitch', that's a bad word! Now you have to put a dollar into the swear jar."

"Who was it?" I asked, coming into the room with the food.

"Draco Malfoy, apparently he's back."

I didn't even notice that I had dropped the food until I heard a loud clatter of silver collide with the floor, and felt the hot chicken all over myself. I stood, completely frozen, mouth agape. They couldn't possibly be serious, could they? It was all some sick dream, surely I would wake up now and everything would be fine. Wouldn't it? What did I do to deserve this, why my did life have to be so goddamn complicated, it was like living in an effing soap opera. Who knows, maybe now I would find a long lost twin, Harry would learn that Snape was his real father, and Ron's family would win the lottery and learn that Fred was still alive somewhere. What a twisted little soap opera, I think buying that muggle TV was a mistake.

It took me a few moments for the denial to pass over, but then it hit me.

Draco was _really_ back.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Would I ever catch a goddamn break around here?

My vision was starting to waver, and I could just barely distinguish everyone at the table until I started to sway on my feet. And then suddenly the floor caught up with me and everything went black.

……………………

"Do you think she's okay now?" I heard someone whisper from above me.

I think I was on the couch now, or a bed. I wasn't too sure.

Someone's hand, soft and warm, came to rest on my pounding forehead, it felt like someone was prying my head apart with a pair of rusty pliers, and wiped a strand of loose hair out of my face. "Does she look okay, Harry? What the hell was that anyway?"

"Aunt Ginny," A soprano voice from somewhere by my feet rang, "that was a bad word, you have to put a dollar in the swear jar too. And don't think I didn't forget, Uncle Ron."

"Of course honey…" I guess it was Ginny, answered distractedly. "Do you think she hit her head? Should we take her to St. Mungo's?"

Another soft voice started to talk, Luna from the sound of it, "I don't think she hit it that hard, but she'll have a pretty nasty head ache when she wakes up." Oh, she was telling me, all right.

"What's wrong with mummy, Uncle Harry?"

"We don't know, Emma." I felt something small, it was definitely Emma, crawl up my legs, snuggle into my side and bury her head into the base of my neck.

I didn't want to scare her like this, but my eyes just didn't want to open. The pain in my head had settled between them, but increased tenfold. I was going to need a very strong headache potion. Forcing my eyes to open, I blinked rapidly at the sudden light from the room, "Ow, what the-"

"Shh, try not to move, you hit your head." No shit. "Do you remember anything?" Of course I remember fainting, it's not every day that the long lost father of your child just happens to reaper. He had to have some kind of ulterior motive, maybe he knew. No, if he had known, he would have come back by now, to see his daughter. Or at least it would be nice to think that.

"No," I lied, "what happened?"

Ginny sat down on the bed next to me, and placed her hand on my leg, rubbing comforting circles on it, "You just froze and fell. It was the oddest thing, we were just talking."

"Actually, she looked like she'd been lobotomized," said Ron to Harry, thinking Ginny wouldn't hear him. Unfortunately for him, Luna did and gave him a smack on the arm.

"It's okay Luna, it's probably true."

"What's lo-bot-mimized mean, Mummy?" Emma asked.

I went to speak, but Ron spoke faster, "It means to have part of your brain removed."

"Mummy had her brain cut out!" Emma yelled in fright and clung on to my neck tighter. Luna hid her face in her hands, trying to laugh at Ron's stupidity, and Harry winced from behind Ron. Ginny just sighed and shook her head in shame.

"Ronald! No honey," I turned toward Emma, "I have all of my brain, it's just a stupid expression that Uncle Ron used. It wasn't very funny, was it?" Emma shook her head and crawled up onto my lap. I was able to sit up and wrap my arms around her tiny body. She was so warm, so innocent, devoid of any corruption that taints the minds of those exposed to the real horrors of the world; I didn't know what I would have done without her holding me together. "Hey Gin, you don't happen to have a headache potion handy, do you?"

"I think I might. Hold on, I'll just go get it." She got up and made her way over to the adjoining bathroom. Ron said something about checking on James and grabbed Luna's hand as they too left the room. Harry just stood there, an odd look on his face as he watched me stroke Emma's platinum blond hair. He stood there awkwardly, and it looked like he wanted to say something to me, but every time he came close, he would decide against it.

Thankfully, Ginny came back into the room a few minutes later. "Here you go, 'Mione. It should take a few minutes to kick in, but you'll be as good as new once it works. I think I'll just head back to the kitchen and clean up."

"Yea, I think I'll go too…" Said Harry after a brief pause in time. But he sounded distracted, like there was something else on his mind. With one last glance back at Emma and then me, he left for the kitchen. Did he know, is that what he was thinking about? Was he the only one to realize the similarities between Draco and Emma, did he realize that I fainted once Draco's name was said? Harry was smarter than people gave him credit for, as opposed to Ron who was hopeless sometimes. If he did know, I didn't think I would be able to keep it from him much longer, especially if he was working with Draco every day.

"What do you say we get out of here, baby? We can get some ice cream at home."

I knew Emma loved it here, but truth was, I just wanted to go home already. "Can we watch Cinderella too?" Emma asked.

"Sure baby, anything you want." I gave her a kiss on the back of her head before she leapt off my lap and grabbed my hand.

She dragged me into the living room where Ron was sitting with Luna and James, who had seemed to calm down a bit. He was sitting in her lap as she read him a book. Emma gave them each a kiss on the cheek before pulling me into the kitchen to say goodbye to Harry and Ginny.

As we entered the kitchen, Harry and Ginny seemed to be having some kind of argument. They were huddled in a corner, Ginny's arms waving around her head as they spoke in rushed, heated whispers. "Ginny come on, just consider it," Harry tried to plead with her.

"No, it's utterly preposterous. There's entirely no way that- Oh, Hermione. How are you feeling?" Harry's head snapped in my direction as Ginny alerted him to my presence and they immediately dropped their conversation. They were probably talking about me, but whatever it was it couldn't have been good, seeing as Ginny looked pretty upset.

"We were just – uh - we're going to go now. See you tomorrow?"

"Oh, yea, sure," she said before she snapped out of her little daze, coming over and giving us a hug goodbye, though Harry refused to even look at me.

He definitely knew.

He knew and he was going to hate me.

Whoever said that the truth would set you free was seriously disturbed.

We flooed home, Emma on my hip, and after a period of some struggling I had Emma bathed, brushed, dressed in her nightgown, and set up on the living room couch surrounded by pillows and blankets. I had no doubt in my mind that Emma would grow up with vast magical skills, but I wanted to raise her in both worlds, the world in which I grew up in and the world I had come to love. So, I stuck her movie into the player and dimmed the lights.

"Mummy?" she said from under a pile of blankets.

"Yea honey?"

"We forgot the ice cream."

I laughed at her, and paused the movie. "We did, didn't we? I guess we'll have to just fix that. Come on, I'll race you." She launched off the couch and made a beeline for the kitchen. I lifted her up onto the counter and opened the freezer door. "Okay then, we have… chocolate or vanilla." I held the two cartons of ice cream in front of her.

With a look of utter concentration on her face, she appraised the two flavors. Unable to choose just one, she stuck her greedy fingers out and grabbed both. "Chocolate _and_ vanilla it is, then. Now we get the whipped cream, chocolate sauce, sprinkles, and of course…"

"Chocolate chips!" Emma finished for me. I grabbed two bowls from the cabinet behind Emma, and two spoons. "Mummy, open up." In her hand was the can of whipped cream. I opened my mouth and tilted my head back so she could spray some into my mouth, but instead she missed, and I ended up with whipped cream all over my face and parts of my shirt. "Oops." She didn't seem very sorry, seeing as she was shaking with laugher.

I had to admit, it was unbelievably adorable.

"Oops?" I said, tickling her all over until she erupted in little shrieks of laughter, "Oops? Oh, now you're asking for it" I stopped tickling her and picked up the can of whipped cream, spraying some on the tip of her nose. "Oops, I guess I missed," I said, feigning innocence. She jumped off the counter to get out of the way of the whipped cream, and ran back into the living room with her bowl of ice cream. With a wad of paper towels and my own bowl, I followed her to the couch. Crouching down in front of her I wiped the whipped cream off my face and her's as she tried to squirm out of my way.

I turned the movie back on as Emma shoveled her food down her throat, I was afraid she was going to choke on it. She came up to my side and burrowed herself into me, her little head resting on my side, my own arm draped around her. She got so engrossed in these movies, and I believe that it was where she developed her fantasy of her Father being some kind prince charming that would just come and whisk her away to his magical kingdom.

I didn't want her to keep disillusioning herself into thinking this, but I didn't have the heart to contradict what little happy part of her father she had.

The movie ended and the lights came back on to illuminate the room. Emma made an attempt to escape to her own room, but I stopped her before she could even get halfway off the couch, "Hey there Missy Emma. What do you say we have a little talk before you go to sleep?"

She paused, and hesitated a few seconds before sitting back down next to me. She was always the most curious child, especially when she was younger, though I'm not quite sure if that's a bad thing yet. "Sure mummy, what's going on?"

"Well, I think," I started, pulling her onto my lap, "that it's time we have a little talk about your Daddy." She turned her head away from me, refusing to meet my eyes." I know that it's hard for you, growing up with only one parent. You can see all the other boys and girls at school that have both a mum and dad, like James does, but you should also know that there are other types of families in the world. And just because your daddy isn't here doesn't mean that I don't love you any less, or that you're any different from anybody else. Do you hear me?" she nodded her head. "And plus, you not only have me, you have your Auntie Ginny and Uncle Harry, and your Auntie Luna and Uncle Ron. Emma baby, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you are so loved, I promise to do everything in my power to make sure of that."

Her tiny small arms came to wrap around my neck and she uttered four simple words that made my heart swell, "I love you mummy."

"I love you too honey. Do you have any questions?"

"Just one. Why did Daddy leave?" At the same time that my heart had swelled, it had burst into a million tiny fragments at the pure innocence of Emma's question. It was such a simple question, yet its weight was suffocating for the second time that night. How did I answer her that when I didn't even know myself?

I had to be as honest with her as I could. "I don't know, baby," I whispered, "that is the one thing I just don't know, and I'm sorry. But, I do know one thing, and that was that I loved your daddy so much, more then you could know. And whatever reason he had to have had for not being here must have been extremely important because we did love each other. I tried to find him, to tell him about you, but I never could. It was like he had disappeared."

"I wish I could have known him," she said so quietly that I almost couldn't hear her.

If my heart hadn't been broken enough before, it certainly was now. She had sounded so _broken_ and dejected there, that I was beginning to doubt if our little talk was such a good idea. "Oh, Emma, I wish you could have too. You know what, I have something for you, but I want you to get in bed first while I get it. Can you do that for me?"

She got off my lap, and with a blanket trailing behind her, she made her way down the hall and into her room while I went into mine. I stood in front of my closet for a few seconds before digging through some of the old boxes that were buried within it. I pushed out of the way some of Emma's old baby boxes, old school books and some summer clothes before finding what I was looking for. I pulled out a small shoe box and wiped some of the dust off with my hand until deciding to use a spell to remove the layers multiple of dust it had accumulated after so many years.

With it tucked safely under my arm, I brought it back to Emma's room, who was now sitting in her bed, surrounded by a sea of stuffed animals. I sat down next to her and placed the box on my lap. "I think," I said opening up the box and taking out its contents, "that you deserve to have this now."

I passed the polished mahogany box into Emma's hands, eyes wide in wonder, "What is it?"

"_That_ is a music box. It was given to me by your daddy a long, long time ago. Go ahead, open it up."

She lifted the lid to the box and its beautiful melody drifted out and spread across the room, resonating against the walls. "I can really have this?" I nodded my head and she flung herself on top of me, knocking me over with the ferocity of her hug. I had to detach myself at some point; she did have school tomorrow, and laid her down on her bed, planting kisses all over her face as she giggled in her musical bell-like laugh.

I picked the music box up from her bed and put it on her dresser on my way out of the room. I paused for a moment, running my fingers over the smooth, dark wood, and the elegant gold engraving on its surface, _'__I was dead before I met you, I was born the day you loved me, and my love for you will keep me alive, forever'._

I chocked back a sob before opening its top and letting its melody lull Emma to sleep and fill my heart with bittersweet memories that were too painful for me to bear right now. "Good night angel," I called to Emma over my shoulder.

But she was already asleep.

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**AN: So far, this has been my longest chapter, but not really my favorite. You tell me what you think. I'm not sure when I'll have the next chapter up by, I have a huge important test on Friday and Tuesday that I'm not nearly ready for, so wish me luck. Next chapter will be in Draco's POV and really important. I had a little run in with my ex the other day, and I just realized that he looks **_**exactly**_** like Tom Felton. So now every time I go to write for Draco, I'm getting interchanging pictures of my head of the both of them. It's driving me mad… Anyways, I'll stop here before I really start to ramble. Don't forget all **_**signed**_** reviews get a sneak peak (That's a hint, people). **

**Next Chapter: Draco POV**


	9. Chapter 9

**Vienna**

**Chapter 9**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

**AN: Oh My God everybody, I was not expecting that many reviews, I absolutely love every single one of you. Think we can do that again ;)? Lots of love to Anna, as always, for being the best beta in just about ever. Sorry for the super long wait, but here it is…**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**_Draco Malfoy_**

What was with everyone telling me to 'grow up' lately?

I was seriously considering going ape shit on the next person who tried to tell me about my 'responsibilities', or some crap like that. Who the hell did they think they were, my mother? My boss? Sure as fuck they weren't my father.

Blaise though, he was hiding something, it was written all too clearly across his guilty face. Though I got the feeling that whatever he was trying – and failing miserably at – to hide, he wasn't about to give it up any time soon.

Life used to be so easy when I didn't give a rat's ass about anything.

I apparated out of the Manor before realizing that I didn't actually have any place to go. All my friends – a grand total of two – were still _in_ the Manor, and I had no intention of going back in there at the moment and listening to them blab on about how foolish and child-like I still was. It really was old news at this point. I could have gone back to my vacant apartment, but the only thing that was waiting for me there was a bottle of firewhisky and some crackers, and I assume that going into work inebriated on the day I get my partner wouldn't be a very good idea.

I settled for a park just outside the ministry.

Besides, what was the point of going home when I had nothing to go _home _to? I had no wife, nobody that I could love and that I knew would love and support me back. I had no kids to care for, spoil, and to protect. Nobody. For the longest time I had walked around with a feeling that part of me was missing, and I guess in a sense part of me was. I had had a chance at that happily ever after, but, in true Draco Malfoy fashion, completely fucked it up.

And now I had nothing.

And there wasn't _anything _I wouldn't do to get back what I had walked out on so many years ago. But the problem was would she take me back? I couldn't expect her to just let me waltz back into her life and pick up where we had left off in a blissful delusion of our old lives.

In the beginning I had only lusted after her, stunned by her beauty that had gone unnoticed after so many years of sick, chauvinistic, sadistic cruelty I projected towards her, an easy target. Yet for some reason, which to this day I am still unable to figure out, I fell for her. The fall I had been heading to was a different kind of fall, one where I just kept on going until I had sunk so low that I was sure rock bottom was the only other place left for me, though I couldn't hear myself falling, I didn't _want_ to.

Rock bottom had come sure enough, but the collision I had been anticipating wasn't what I thought it would be, in fact, it wasn't much of a collision at all. The entire time I had been falling alone, but in the split second that I _hit_ bottom, I wasn't alone anymore. She had been falling with me, only I hadn't realized it. And in the moment she had reached out to take my hand, I didn't feel any kind of hard impact. It was like my world had flipped upside down, and instead of falling I was floating upwards, her hand enclosed in mine. The entire time she had been incased in this unearthly glow, like she was my own personal gift from the gods, the face that launched a thousand ships.

As we rose, our bodies entwined together, it was almost as if our souls too were becoming intertwined. Fused together by the strongest, most powerful and intimidating force known to only the luckiest of men.

Love.

No one else in heaven or hell had more power over me than she did. Up until the moment she had loved me I had never known what it really felt like to be alive, her love had been like being wrapped up in a warm cocoon, impervious to any harm or outside forces.

I had been so terrified of losing her, so terrified of hurting her, that I _ran_ from her, accomplishing the two things that I had tried so hard not to do all at once. It was only a tiny flicker of hope that she still loved me too that kept me going.

The ringing of church bells somewhere off in the distance brought me out of my thoughts. I looked down at my watch, only a few more minutes before I had to head into work. Walking through the park I could see a few small families sprawled out on blankets, mothers attempting to catch their kids and dogs yipping playfully behind them. It was all too… _perfect_. Surely nothing could be _that_ easy, it just looked so natural, so normal. Not able to watch, I averted my eyes and started at the crumbling asphalt pathway.

By the time I had reached The Ministry, the sky had darkened slightly and a few lone rain drops escaped and landed on my face. Families that had been enjoying the warm September day ran at the sight of the oncoming rain, escaping to the shelter of various colored metal boxes on wheels and left. It was the lunch hour when I stepped foot into the Ministry's atrium, hundreds of wizards bustled past me; a fair few stopped what they were doing to stare at me. They looked quite shocked, apparently news of my return hadn't gotten out yet.

I simply brushed past those who were blocking my path and maneuvered my way through the mass of wizards and into the elevator. A rather nervous looking man stood shaking besides me, his eyes darting between myself and my wand, like he thought that I was going to hex him. A plump woman in overpriced and ostentatious out-of-fashion clothing was on my left. Her grotesque face contorting into what I think was supposed to be a wink, thought it looked more like a spasm.

Some things never did change.

"_Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Level two_," A voice called from somewhere above me, signaling the stopping of the elevator. I stepped calmly out, though I was becoming quite annoyed from being stuck between jumpy and twitchy, over there.

I walked until I reached the office of the head of the department, and my new boss. Raising my hand I knocked twice on the wooden door where the name 'Arnold Janssen' was printed in bold, black lettering. "Come in," was the muffled reply from behind the door.

Arnold Janssen was a man in his mid fifties and had been in the department since directly after his graduation from Hogwarts, serving alongside and under Rufus Scrimgeour. He had a gruff exterior, his face framed by a scruffy salt and pepper beard that matched his graying mop of messy hair. A small scar extended from the end of his left eyebrow, ending right below his eye, adding to his intimidating aura.

"Draco," he said with a hint of a question in his deep, gravelly voice, "you're early."

"I know Sir," I replied, my own voice polite yet still cold, no need to upset the boss this early on, "but I didn't want to risk being late on my 'first' day."

His features softened a bit as he smiled, crows-feet crinkling at the corner of his eyes, and extended his hand, "Well then, let's get started. Take a seat, m' boy." He gestured to a chair across from his desk. "So what brings you back to London?"

I mulled my answer over in my head, trying to answer him as honestly as I could, "I just felt that it was time to come back… needed a change of scenery." My face remained devoid of any emotion the entire time, unnervingly calm to most, though Mr. Janssen seemed to just ignore it.

He nodded his head curtly, satisfied by my answer, "I believe you got the general idea of how things work around here yesterday. Am I right? After you get your partner today you will be assigned to a desk next to their's. It should be relatively boring the first few days, the majority of your time spent filling out paperwork. We usually don't send anyone into the field for about a week or two, and even then you must go with a partner. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir," I said. "Sir? Could you possibly tell me who my partner will be?"

He chuckled, "If you'd hold your damn trolls, I was getting to that. Now before I tell you, I urge you to listen before you react, it may come as a bit of a… surprise…" With another slight jerk of my head, I allowed him to continue on. "Since you're joining on much later then we usually allow, we wanted you to be able to learn quickly, and learn from the best. So, the Minister and I have decided that your first partner will be Harry Potter."

Nothing. Not a sound was made, you could have heard a pin drop fifty feet away. Where they shitting me? Potter? I'm sure there were plenty of other aurors that were just as good as Scarface, but for the love of Merlin, why did it have to be him?

Janssen squirmed a little under the icy intensity of my glare, "Now remember that this isn't permanent, it's just to help you learn the ropes. As of right now, Potter doesn't know, we'll be announcing it during the staff meeting in a few moments." He looked down at his watch and stood up, "Actually, we'll be announcing it right now, let's go."

We walked down a different hallway I had come from; the only sound exchanged between us was the squeaking of the soles of our shoes on the tile floor. He stopped me in front of a door, telling me to wait outside until I heard my name called. He probably thought I would cause a scene if I just walked on in there, unannounced and unwelcome. Looking through the slightly frosted window in the door I could see a large, brightly lit conference room, a circular wooden table situated in the middle and surrounded by all the aurors. Janssen took a seat at the head of the table, Potter at his right and Weaslbee directly next to Potter.

They talked business for a while, debriefing cases and handing out new assignments, until he shifted the subject away from work and into me. "So," I heard him start through the door, "I have a little announcement to make. We're going to be welcoming a new member to our staff today, but before I invite him in, I'd like to set some rules. This news may be a bit of a shock to you, but I advise you to receive him with open arms and an open mind. Nothing here can be accomplished with fighting and old grudges. He already understands this, so I expect that you will too." He caught my eye through the window and gave a nod, signaling me to come in and sit in the chair across from Potter, the one on his left.

A few people gasped when I entered the room, I think Potter stopped breathing all together, their faces distorted into expressions of astonish, some of utter loathing.

This was a huge mistake.

"Draco," he said, shaking my hand again, "take a seat." I looked at Potter, my face a mask of cool contempt and hatred. He remained calm, though I could see his death grip on the table turning his knuckles whiter than snow, his eyes narrowed into slits. On his side, Weasly was turning a horrid shade of red.

"Potter. Potter!" Janssen yelled and his gaze broke away from mine and faced his boss.

"Yes sir?" Potter said through clenched teeth. He was facing Janssen, but ever so slowly his eyes refocused themselves on my face again. After a few brief and tense seconds, his eyes widened the tiniest bit in… in what? Astonishment or recognition? Maybe both? It was so quick that I couldn't even place it. His brows furrowed, a quizzical expression taking over his face. He looked just like Blaise did this morning, studying me. It was becoming rather unnerving.

"For the love of Merlin, Potter!" barked Janssen, "Would you two like a room? If you think he's that beautiful then save it for _after _the meeting to ogle him. But if you don't mind, I'd like to get _back_ to the meeting." Potter's face blushed a deep crimson red before turning his gaze towards the floor. "Good, now that I have your attention I can assign partners." He took out a sheet of parchment from inside a folder and scanned his eyes down the list. "Hawks, you go with Messer, Wolfe with Delko, Gibbs and McGee..." as he rattled off the names of the pairs, Potter looked to be growing increasingly more nervous each time his name wasn't called, "And finally, Potter, Weasly, and Malfoy."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Potter whined into his hands. Weasly looked like a flabbergasted fish with its mouth hanging wide open on its hinges.

Such a baby, "Suck it up and get over it, _Scarhead_. I don't like it anymore then you do, but if you chose to do your suffering in silence and not in front of the whole entire bloody room, then we won't have any problems. But if you bitch and moan about how unfair your life is, then we will. The quicker we work together the quicker we get new partners." A glare was my only answer.

"Er… Thank you Draco. Okay, meeting dismissed, everyone back to work." Chairs scraped against the floor as entire room stated to get up. Janssen cleared his throat and we all stopped to look at him again. He pointed his finger at Potter, Weasly, and me, "Everyone… except you three." Slowly, I sat back down into my chair as The Weasel gave Potty a pat on the shoulder. "Harry, I expect you to be setting an example, not murdering your partner. You need to learn to work out your issues so you can get your job done, otherwise there will be consequences, and that includes childish name calling. Take the day to get acquainted with each other and fill out some paperwork; you won't get any field time until at least next week when Draco has had some training."

"Yes sir, Mr. Janssen," we said, though Potter sounded like a mumbling school boy who had just gotten caught with the answer key to next week's transfiguration test.

"Good, now be gone with you three." He got up and started walking towards the door. "And play nice." He called laughing as he left the room. There were a few tense moments of mutual silence as we just stared at each other, unblinking and unmoving. What in the bloody hell was wrong with this guy, thinking he could just stick us together and _hope_ that we don't kill each other in the process. Old grudges don't just disappear over night. Well, at least not usually.

_Hermione_. I felt a ripple of pain shoot through my body when I thought about her. Just knowing that she was close, probably down the hall from where I was now made my heart ache with desire. All I wanted was to see her again, hold her in my arms and kiss her slender neck, ravish her body and worship it like it deserved to be. To have the feel of her fingers as they slid delicately through my hair, and experience once again the sensation of her hands running up and down my chest as they created jolts of electricity that would pulse under my skin and remind me that I _was_ alive. But I wasn't brave enough to go to her, I didn't deserve her.

After what seemed like ages, Potty stood up, clearing his throat. "Come with me," he said and started walking before I could answer him. His faithful side-kick was trailing close to him, never leaving his side. We continued down the hallway I had originally come from, past Janssen's office and into another small, secluded office away from the tiny cubicles. Typical that the Golden Boy and his Robin would get their own office. I walked over to the only empty desk in the room, taking a seat behind it and propping my elbows up onto the smooth wood. Sighing, I dropped my head into my hands and started down at my lap.

Potter went over to his desk which was littered with various pieces of parchment and paraphernalia, including pictures, broken quills and empty ink bottles, a fair number of books and what I'm hoping is only today's leftover lunch. Weasly's desk looked about the same, minus the books. Did these two ever clean?

With a loud 'thud', Potter had dropped a pile of parchment onto of my desk, "Fill these out," he ordered.

"What are they?"

He let out a callous bark of laughter, "Its paperwork, what the hell do you think it is?"

"Potter," I said irritably, "this just isn't paperwork, it's the effing War and Peace of paperwork. Do you really expect me to do _all _of this by myself?"

Weasly spoke for the first time now, "Yes, and we each have our own different pack to do too. So stop complaining like a git, shut your trap, and do your work. None of us can leave until we all finish. There should be some quills and new ink inside of the desk." He was right; I groped around in the draws until I found a bottle of spell-checking ink and a quill. Continuing, Weasly said, "Your pile is required by every new employee, it's bloody easy, don't screw it up."

I held back a retort on where he could put his 'bloody easy paperwork', instead I snarled and narrowed my eyes at him until I turned them downwards at the first piece of parchment.

This was ridiculous; this entire pile of parchment was just personal information. Question number one, _'How much experience do you have in battling dark wizards? What is the extent of your knowledge? Please provide an example.'_ Did they really expect me to answer questions like this, shouldn't they have asked me this at my – oh, I don't know – _interview_?

Finishing a page, I looked up at the clock; it had only been ten minutes. I was becoming agitated and impatient, and sitting still in my seat was becoming increasingly more difficult. Without warning to the other two, I bolted out of my seat and to the door, shouting something about the bathroom back to them. I wasn't sure where I was going, or what I was even doing, but I just _had_ to get out of there. My feet took me through the empty halls, delving deeper into the maze of cubicles and private offices until two large doors blocked my pathway.

With my palms facing outwards, I pushed both doors wide open and took a cautious step through where I found myself inside the Wizengamot. I froze, unable to take a step forward or move back. Did I have the strength to face her? My visceral reaction was to turn and run for my life, but something else stopped me. A pull from my _heart_, instead of my gut.

On the wall next to me was a row of name plates, each including the office number of the corresponding employee. I could see Hermione's name engraved onto the black metal, and without realizing it my hand came to hover in front of me, stuck between going back down to my side and fully extending so that I could brush my fingers up against the cool metal. It seemed to have a mind of its own as it started to inch forward, now not more than an inch away…

"You know, she's not here," I heard, followed by my name, behind me. Blaise was standing behind me, for how long I wasn't sure. His mouth curved into a smug smile before he took a sip of his coffee that he had in one hand. The other held a muffin with a copy of the Prophet under his arm. "So, what brings you to this end of the department, mate?"

"Shit, Blaise, _don't do that_." I just couldn't seem to catch a break today. "And what do you mean, 'she's not here'? She works here, doesn't she?"

"Yea she works here, but she left already, she always leaves around three." He tilted his head down the hallway, "come on, we'll go to my office."

His office was simple and elegant, clutter free but not impersonal; a large picture of him and Astoria sat framed in expensive silver atop his desk. I took a seat across from him in a plush leather chair.

"Where does she go at three? Doesn't everyone here get off at six, or is that some kind of 'new guy' office joke they're just playing on me?" I asked him.

"No," he laughed, "its not a joke, though if I was you I would keep your eyes open, just in case. She just has… other responsibilities that she has to attend to which requires her to be home at three."

Yea that sure explained a lot.

"Responsibilities, are you shitting me? For fucks sake, Blaise. If you wanted to be anymore vague you might as well be speaking in pig Latin!" If I wasn't sure he was hiding something before, I sure as hell was sure now.

"Draco, I may be your best mate, but some things just aren't in my right to tell." What was with all these goddamn secrets, was she doing something bad? Was she in trouble?

Had she moved on?

"You're no help," I grumbled to him. He merely laughed at me before opening up the Prophet and starting to read. A little less jumpy, I figured it was probably time to head back to Potter and Weasly, though I detested the thought.

It was harder to find my way back to the office then it was to just get lost within the department. Potter jumped me as soon as I walked through the door. "Where have you been!" he demanded, "you've been gone for an hour!"

I hadn't noticed that I had been gone for so long, "I got lost."

He grumbled something incoherently before stalking away.

…………..

Sleep hadn't come easy last night.

My mind had been too befuddled with thoughts of Hermione; she was all I could dream about. Each time I had allowed myself to sleep, I would wake – drenched in a layer of cold sweat and my entire body shaking violently. Now I was struggling to stay awake as I sat at my desk, nursing a cup of coffee in my hands while I waited for Potter and Weasel to come in.

Weasly was the first, sulking into the room, half conscious, as he grunted his acknowledgement of my presence at me. I was seriously starting to doubt if I was cut out for this whole nine to five work day, it wasn't like I really needed to work, or had anyone to work for.

Potter followed soon after. He seemed to be fine as he was walking in, but as soon as he saw me he went rigid, his hand was still on the doorknob as his flesh drained of all color. Standing like that, looking like all the life had been drained out of him only lasted a few seconds before his face flushed cherry red. He looked positively livid when he started to convulse, his shoulders and hands shaking uncontrollably.

The door slammed shut behind him as he stalked over to me, "Draco Malfoy! You foul, loathsome, no good son of a BITCH. I swear to God I'm going to murder you, you filthy little COCKROACH." Both Weasly and I jumped up at the same time, my first instinct to reach under my robes and grab my wand.

He was two feet from my desk and still advancing on me, when Weasly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He was able to grab both of Potter's arms and hold him back, trying to calm him down, "Harry, what the fuck, come on snap _out_ of it! What's gotten into you, do you want to get fired? Think about Ginny, about James, what's going to happen to them when you get locked up for murdering your partner? Come on, Janssen was only joking about that."

"I'm going to murder him! I swear to God…" Potter was still yelling, unsuccessfully trying to get out of Weasly's grip.

"For the love of Merlin, Harry, _come off it_! I don't know what's gotten into you, but it has to stop right _now_." Weasly then proceeded to actually punch Potter when he refused to listen. I stifled a laugh, figuring now probably wasn't the best time if I didn't want Potter to kill me.

He had stumbled back away from the red head, his hand covering the part of his chin that was going to become a very nasty bruise soon. Defeated and emotionally exhausted, he collapsed into his chair, refusing to look at anything or anyone but his shoes. I called out to his not-so-faithful sidekick, "Thanks for that."

"It wasn't for you," He said, his voice flat and blank.

Aside from Potter's little outburst, which has yet to be explained though I have a feeling that it never will be, today was just like yesterday; more paperwork. At some point I thought my hand was going to fall off, but I never let myself get distracted, I put every ounce of my energy into the mindless forms that just never seemed to end.

"Harry," the Weasel said glancing down at the letter in his lap sometime after lunch ended, "Luna wants to know what you want for dinner tonight, Ginny's there with her now."

Potter looked up from the paperwork we had been filing a minute earlier. "Tell her to ask Ginny, I'll eat anything. Did she ask Hermione yet?"

My head shot up at the mention of her name, yet the two idiots didn't notice it. Instantly, I became interested in their rather boring conversation. Weasly continued talking, "I'm not sure, I'll go check on her in a few minutes. I have to see what Emma wants too. I think she's going through that stage again where she's refusing to eat anything but one food."

Scarhead started chuckling at a memory, "Do you remember when she wouldn't eat anything but spaghetti and meatballs for a whole month, Hermione had to start glamoring all her food to trick her into eating it." From what I could tell, this Emma sounded like a child, more specifically Hermione's child. Had she really moved on? Gotten married and started a family like I had feared all those years while I was away? But I couldn't blame her if she had, did I really expect her to wait around for me when I grew up and came back, like Blaise had said.

Yea, I guess I had.

What a selfish pig I was, but the thought of Hermione with anyone else but me, even though I deserved it, made me seethe with anger and see green with envy.

Weasly kept talking, "Oh yea, I remember that. Except she didn't call it spaghetti, it was more like basghetti. Made poor Hermione go mental."

"I can't believe she ratted us out, mate, we got her the doll and everything." I smiled without realizing it, blackmailing the two idiots gave her major points in my book, she sounded like a cute kid.

"Poor Hermione's got her handful with that one. She's definitely got a side that's not Hermione's though; you can't help but wonder where that came from."

Potter's face darkened, and he lost all of the enthusiasm from his voice and his gaze turned downcast as he stared at the floor again. "You know where that came from, Ron, the sick bastard that had left her to raise Emma on her own." I had to agree with the Boy-who-wouldn't-die on that one, anyone who left Hermione was a sick bastard.

Oh what a hypocrite I was.

"I'll never know how she manages to stay so together, though, in all fairness, he didn't even know."

"What are you, defending him now?" His voice had taken on an sharp edge of anger, protectiveness, and disgust. "You can't tell somebody anything if you can't find them, and she clearly couldn't find him." His fits were clenched tightly around his quill, and he snapped it into two. I was afraid _he_ was going to snap again.

I heard myself speaking before I could stop and think about it, "Who is he?"

Both their heads snapped in my direction, like they had just remembered that I had been sitting there this whole time they were taking their little trip down memory lane. By now everyone had forsaken their paperwork.

"I'm sorry, were we talking to you, _ferret_?" Weaselbe sneered. He turned toward Potter, "I'm going to Hermione, see you tonight."

Potter was looking at me again, that same calculating look that he had given me yesterday afternoon and that Blaise had given me yesterday morning. It felt as if he was sizing me up, like I was a piece of meat for sale. He started talking, but his voice was slightly off and still laced with malice, "No, we don't know, she never told us. Excuse me… I have to, um, go find someone."

With that he stood up from his chair, confusion mixed with loathing clear across his face, and I shouted at his retreating back before the door slammed in my face, "Hey, Scarhead! What about all this paperwork!" But he was already gone.

They never came back. After two hours I had had enough waiting, and I got the okay from Janssen to leave early. I had taken to walking through the park by the ministry in the past couple of days, there was something calming about it, and it provided me with any easy way to let my mind lose from all the weight and guilt that I usually carried around on top of me. But when I reached my usual bench today, I realized that I wasn't alone.

A little girl, couldn't be more than six or seven, was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, a nasty looking scrap running down her left leg. Her shockingly ice blue eyes were red rimmed, like she had been crying, but that wasn't what shocked me. Something about her platinum-blond corn-silk hair, and stunning eyes just seemed so _familiar _to me, but I couldn't quite place it, though I knew that it was probably so obnoxiously obvious.

I din't know what I wanted to do, walk away or go and help her, and I stood torn like I had the other day in front of the Wizengamot. Tentatively I took one step forward, followed by another and another until I was standing about a foot away from her. She looked up at me and our eyes locked, when a searing pain ripped through my heart that I had only ever felt when I was with Hermione, and a rapid torrent of emotions that I hadn't felt in a long time came swooping back into me.

"Can you help me?" A voice like the sound of little jingling bells said from the bench. She raised one tiny little hand to wipe another tear away from her eyes that had managed to break away.

I crouched down so that I was eye level with her. Those eyes were so damn familiar, if only I could place it… "Sure thing, honey. How about I heal that nasty cut of yours first, and then you can tell me what happened." Where the hell had this side of me come from? Never in my life have I dealt with little children, but this just felt so normal, like I was supposed to protect and care for her, like a father would.

Taking out my wand I tapped the cut once very gently and muttered a healing spell. The nasty gash disappeared but the blood still remained dried onto her leg. "Thanks Mr… oh, I didn't get your name, I'm sorry. I forgot that I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

She held out her hand, I shook it, her little faced scrunched in seriousness, acting just as serious as she was I took her hand, "I'm Draco Malfoy." Came my reply.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Draco, I'm Emma Rose Granger." Oh God, _she _was Hermione's daughter. What a sick, malicious joke someone up there was trying to play on me. She talked just like Hermone had, obviously she had inherited Hermione's brains, but oh boy she was going to be a heart breaker when she grew up. I didn't want to think about that.

Wait a minute, if Emma is here, where was Hermione? "Emma," I asked her, "where is your mother?"

Another lone tear slid down the smooth plane of her cheek, "That's the thing, Mr. Draco, I don't know where my mummy went. Can you help me find her?"

Her whole face lit up with hope and my heart swelled for her. I stood up at the same time she jumped off the bench and grabbed my hand, pulling me forward along the path. She rambled on about her new school, her pet cat Winky, and even what she wanted to do for her sixth birthday. I just listened. No more than five minutes after we started walking we heard Emma's name being called frantically. Still holding onto me, Emma started to run forward, taking me with her as we rounded a corner and found a very distraught looking Hermione close to hysterics.

"Mummy! Over here, over here!" Emma called after her. Hermione's eyes snapped in our direction, and she spun sharply on her heals, though I don't think she saw me, only Emma. I hadn't realized that I had stopped breathing at the sight of her until my chest started to hurt from the lack of oxygen.

Hermione was on her knees, kissing Emma all over her face and checking her body for any sign of harm when she noticed the blood on her leg. "Baby girl, what happened?" she asked.

"Oh, I fell and got a boo-boo. But it's all better now, Mr. Draco fixed it."

"Mr. Draco?" Her brows furrowed together, something I noticed she used to do whenever she was thinking hard about something, or about an unpleasant thought.

"Yea, this is Mr. Draco, he helped me find you too, Mummy." Emma pointed up at me, "He even looks like me too, isn't that funny." Hermione's eyes locked with mine, burning with pain and a resentful hatred, when everything just finally clicked into place.

Emma was turning six.

Hermione and I were together six years ago

Why Emma's features seemed so familiar to mine.

They _were _mine.

Why I felt such strong fatherly like feelings for her when I saw her hurt and upset.

I _was_ her father.

Oh my God, _I _was her father.

Holly fucking hell.

_I_ was the bastard Potter and Weasly were talking about.

_I _left Hermione alone, and _pregnant_.

I was a sick, sick monster.

I was a _father_.

"Shit," Hermione said.

* * *

***Runs and hides from flying objects while waving a white flag***

**AN: So… what do you think? I'm sorry, but it had to be ended there, and so far this was my longest chapter yet, over six thousand words, thirteen pages. Now review, review, review! Oh, since I kept you waiting, and you know I hate to do that, you can ask one question again, and one question only about anything you want and I'll make sure I answer it for you. But this is only if you leave a **_**signed**_** review. **

**Well, I've recently become addicted to twitter (it's so bad), and I've taken up stalking Tom Felton's twitter, where I found this picture from some movie he was filming. Just replace the (dot) for an actual period. **

**http://twitpic(dot)com/1tvim**

**Next Chapter: Six Years Ago**


	10. Chapter 10

**Vienna**

**Chapter 10**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**AN: Have I told you enough that I love you all? So I wanted to make a banner for this story, but after many failed attempts I gave up. But if anyone out there would like to make one, send me a message in either a PM or a review, I would appreciate it so much. **

**So sorry this is late, I wanted to have it out before I went away, but I couldn't get it done in time. But I'm back now, anyway, better late than never. **

**Chapter 10: Six Years Ago**

* * *

_**Hermione Granger **_

I shivered.

But not from being cold. No, I was anything but cold. In fact, I was _burning_.

A strong hand came to wrap around my body and I snuggled closer to the muscular chest my head was resting on as it rose and fell in a slow and steady motion, almost lulling me back to sleep. I cracked one eye slightly as a sliver of bright sunshine poured in through the tiny window high on the wall, creating a small strip of light across the floor.

I had this weird feeling that there was something pulling at me now, like someone had hooked a piece of string through my stomach and was drawing me to them, only I didn't know who it was. It was an oddly comforting feeling, in a way; it made me feel like I wasn't so alone anymore.

I've heard the expression before that we are all connected by this invisible thread of some sort, infinite in its potential and fragile in its design. But what is it that connects us? Is it a master plan that drives us and leads us to those who we are meant to be connected to, or is it something that lies deep within ourselves, our souls, waiting to be awakened? What are we if not a collection of beliefs, an assortment of thoughts and memories of our own experiences? Can I be me without these, can you be you? And what would happen to all of us lonely souls if this connection were to break, would we even feel it?

Content in lying there, letting my mind wander, I took in the moment and the feel of the warm arms that encompassed my waist… wait just a second… since when did I wake up on the floor with arms around my waist?

I didn't.

Doing the only thing that came to mind at the moment, I screamed and jumped in the air, wrapping myself in the blanket that had been around my waist to cover my naked body.

Oh God, I was naked too.

Malfoy was startled awake by the sudden removal of my body and the noise I was making. "What in the bloody hell Granger…" He leaned up on his elbows, running a hand over his face and through his hair in an effort to wake himself up. I looked down at his completely naked body, and all the memories from last night came flooding back into me like I had been hit with a tidal wave. My hand twitched at my side, wanting to reach out and just run my hand across the smooth contours of his chest. A familiar sensation started to bubble in my lower abdomen again that only worsened under the intense scrutiny of his gaze–

No.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I couldn't breathe; what had I done? I was _not_ that type of girl. This is just a bad dream. Yea, that was it, a bad dream that I would wake up from any minute now. I snapped my eyes shut, maybe if I just _willed_ it away, it would actually happen. Maybe Malfoy wouldn't be lying in front of me in his birthday suit, and I would be sitting in the comfort of my own home.

"Granger, what in God's name are you doing?" He asked, his voice slightly tinted with amusement.

I opened one eye to glare at him with, "Trying to wake up. This is all a very, very bad dream. None of this is real." I closed the eye again, "Bad dream, bad dream…" Now I was pretty sure I was just speaking for my own sanity, almost as if I was trying to convince myself that it was true.

Malfoy was laughing at me, so I gave up my own little mantra and looked at him. He had found his bathing suit and was walking freely around the shed, trying to locate his shirt. "You know," he started, "you didn't seem to think it was so bad last night." If I wasn't blushing before, I was positive that my face now resembled that of a cherry tomato, when he turned around and winked at me, eyes twinkling mischievously and his lips curving up into a sly smile.

_No_.

"I refuse to believe… It can't possibly… there is _no_ way that we… we had-" I stumbled over my words. I was barely able to form a coherent thought much less a sentence.

"It's called sex, Granger. S. E. X. _Sex_. It's not a bad word, you know," he finished for me, that perpetually maddening smirk was still etched onto his face. At least someone was enjoying himself, I'm glad _he_ found this amusing.

"Oh will you shut your damn trap, Malfoy! I don't need this right now." I snapped at him. "Do you think for once in your life you could think about someone else other then yourself? This is so _wrong_, and all you're doing is making it worse. Shouldn't you be disgusted right now, I am, as you so _love _to put it, a filthy _mudblood_, and you _slept _with me!" My voice had become hysterical, escalating to a pitch where I was afraid that soon only bats would hear me. I was trying desperately not to cry, but my eyes were starting to water already. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I continued speaking, "Now, I'm going to leave. Once I walk out of that door, I will leave you alone, forever, and I expect you to do the same."

He stood, positively gobsmacked, for a brief moment before he snarled at me, a hint of anger flashing through his icy eyes. Slowly, I turned away from him, but the feeling of his eyes boring into the back of my head never left me. I went to open the door, but it wouldn't budge.

So much for my graceful exit.

Three more pulls and a few choice swear words later and the goddamned door finally swung open, causing me to lose my balance as I stumbled backwards.

Malfoy cleared his throat behind me, but I just couldn't take anymore of his bullshit, so I spoke before he could get a word in, "_What_, in God's name, do you want now?"

He flattered for a second before grinning wickedly, "I was just going to suggest putting on your bathing suit, but I guess if you like walking around in only a blanket than my advice really isn't needed," he said, a hand gesturing to the blanket I was wearing.

I didn't say anything back, merely shooting a glare in his direction and scouring around the tiny shed for my clothes. I successfully located the top of my bikini in the mess of volley ball nets, though the bottoms were proving to be slightly more problematic. When I found them, flung carelessly in a corner, they didn't even resemble a bathing suit; instead, they looked more like a shredded rag.

Shit, since I didn't have my wand I was going to have to ask for Malfoy's help, though I detested the thought.

I turned to face him, cringing as I did. He noticed the raggedy piece of fabric in my hand, "Yes Granger?" he asked haughtily.

God how I loathed him and his self-righteous, smug ass… albeit, a very cute ass. "Yea, um… er… could you… uh," he raised one insufferable eyebrow as I stuttered. Just suck it up, Hermione, and spit it out already, it's not like I had any dignity left to throw away. "Could you – er – possibly conjuremesomenewclothing," I spoke quickly.

"I'm sorry, Granger, I didn't quite catch that."

I took a deep breath to relax myself, and looked straight into his piercing eyes mustering up as much courage as I could, "I said, could you possibly conjure me some new clothing." He waved his wand, and a plain white shirt and boxers appeared on the floor between us.

Hesitantly I reached out and lifted the clothing off the floor, never breaking eye contact, though suddenly, I didn't want to. Something in them caught and held my attention; they seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Maybe you should – er – get changed now." He said absentmindedly.

"Oh, yea right," I answered, just as out of it as he was. "Well, you have to, um, turn around now, because you don't get to see this anymore."

Our eyes finally broke apart when he turned his back to me, running a pale hand through his messy-morning-after sex hair. A weird, empty-like feeling materialized in my chest when our gaze ripped apart. I dressed quickly, and crossed my arms across my upper body, but that nagging vacant feeling never went away.

"I- I guess I'll- I guess I'll just be going." I walked slowly towards the door, but I stopped when I was halfway through, my hand resting on the frame as I looked over my shoulder at him. He wasn't looking at me, instead his gaze was focused somewhere on the floor. "Goodbye," I whispered.

It took all my strength to walk away from him, there was something in the back of my head that told me not to, that I was supposed to stay with him, but I pushed it away and kept walking.

The beach was littered with debris that had been flung around from the storm; the choppy, unwelcoming waters pulled stray pieces of garbage back into it as the persisting winds ripped at my body and chilled me.

_Now_ I was cold.

I kept my arms firmly wrapped around myself, but it did nothing to block the freezing winds. Not once did I look back, for fear that if I did I wouldn't be able to keep going forward. Even out of sight, he was never quite out of mind.

The house was quite when I reached it. With everything that had happened, I had completely forgotten about my parents, they must have been worried sick about me, but I wasn't in the mood to see them right now. All I wanted to do was crawl up in my bed and cry my eyes out.

But I had no such luck. My parents were waiting for me in the conservatory and my mother didn't waste a second once the door was closed to wrap me in a bone-crushing hug. They looked frazzled and exhausted, like they hadn't slept the entire night. My mother's eyes were blood-shot and red-rimmed, my father's hair was sticking up and disheveled like he had been pulling at it.

"Mum, I'm okay, really. See, I'm fine. Mum. Mum, I can't breathe."

"Jean", my father said, placing a comforting hand on my hysterical mother, "you're suffocating the poor girl."

Her hold on me loosened, and her hands came to cup my face, fingers gently stroking my cheeks, "Oh Hermione, we were so worried. We came back from town when the storm started, and when we got home you still weren't here. I looked outside; hoping to see you coming up the beach, but the only thing I saw was your chair, floating away in the water."

She chocked out a sob, and unable to continue, my father took over, "I went out to the water, praying that you were still there, just out of our sight, but I only found this, and I knew something was wrong." He walked into the kitchen, coming back in a few seconds later, "Here" From behind his back, he pulled out my wand.

I took it gingerly and placed it in the waistband of the boxers, "I think I need to sit down."

"Of course, sweetheart, here, sit on the couch and your father will bring you a cup of tea." Guiding me by my shoulders, my mother led me to the small loveseat, while my father went back into the kitchen to make some tea. She sat down on the coffee table in front of me, taking my hands in hers. "What really happened, Hermione?"

What could I really tell her? I couldn't tell her the truth, for obvious reasons. "While you guys were out, I had gone down to the beach to read, but you already know that. At some point I think I fell asleep, because the next think I knew I was being swept up by the waves, and carried down the shore." Now I had to lie, so I looked down at my hands, unable to look her in the eye, "One of the locals pulled me out of the water and let me stay in their house for the night. They even gave me these clothes to wear. That's it, really."

"I'm just glad you're okay, honey. Your father and I should thank those kind people, they must be angels."

Ha, I wouldn't exactly call him an angel.

I felt exhausted, all of a sudden, "Mum, can you tell Dad to hold off on the tea, I think I just want to lie down for a while."

"Sure Honey, you just go up to your room and have yourself a good nap. We'll be down here if you need us."

"I love you, Mum."

"I love you too, Honey," she said, giving me a kiss on the temple as I turned to go up the stairs. "Hermione, there's a festival in town tonight, and we were thinking – only if you were up for it –that we could go. As a family. What do you say?"

I nodded my acceptance and continued up the stairs. My bed was warm and inviting, but it did nothing to comfort me, as a rush of tears that I had been holding back for so long, spilled over.

I was so… _confused_.

_Torn_.

My mind knew that it was _wrong_ to want him, we were two completely different people, and he _hated_ people like me. He hated Harry, and Ron, he was the bloody son of a Death Eater, for crying out loud.

But my body, what I feared was becoming the stronger part of me, _craved _him. It _needed_ him. In all the years that we despised each other, I had held on to the idea that whatever we were made of, I was as different from Malfoy as a moonbeam is from lightning, or frost from fire.

Oh, piss it, who was I trying to kid.

So I did the only thing that made any sense at the moment.

I cried.

I cried for the last innocent part of me that I had lost.

I cried because I was scared, scared of these new foreign and unwanted feelings.

Why had he saved me, why couldn't he have just let me die peacefully under those brutal waves? Surely it was less painful than this.

But through all these muddled thoughts racing around in my head and the sensation of being stabbed in the heart with a white hot poker– of one thing I was certain…

I was falling for Draco Malfoy.

* * *

_**Draco Malfoy**_

Why did I let her walk away?

"Damn it!" I yelled, kicking over a plastic chair.

It had been hours since she left, the sun rising to its high point in the sky and then, ever so slowly, starting its decent back down towards the horizon line.

I should have gone back ages ago, let my mother know I was fine, though I doubt she was worrying about me, I've been known to disappear for days at a time.

Especially when we first got here.

What she said this morning kept ringing in my ear, why _did_ I sleep with her; she was a filthy mudblood, after all.

_Mudblood_.

Something about that word just seemed so dirty now, even though I had been saying it all my life. We might as well have been from the complete opposite sides of the world. But was she really all that inferior to me? Hell, she was probably was the better person.

And why did I sleep with her?

Was it in the heat of the moment, or was there something else that drove me to do it? She just looked so goddamn beautiful, so innocent, and I had taken that from her. This morning she looked broken and terrified. Was she terrified of me? She seemed to want it as much as I had.

When she was standing there this morning, in nothing but that thin blanket, it took every ounce of will-power I had not to ravish her right then and there on the floor again.

Somehow I didn't think she would have protested.

Last night I thought angels were calling out to me when she screamed my name in ecstasy. I remembered every contour of her perfect, goddess-like body, and the way it felt under my fingers. We had fit perfectly, molding together like we had been specifically designed for each other. Nothing had ever felt so natural.

"Get a hold of yourself, Draco."

Brilliant, now I was talking to myself, the first sign of insanity.

Sitting in the shed any longer wasn't healthy; I had spent enough time wallowing. But I didn't understand why this shag had gotten me so wound up. After all, it was just a onetime thing. It wasn't like anything was going to come out of it.

The wet sand was spongy, and sunk under my feet as I made my way back down to my house, still thinking in overdrive. Was I… no, it couldn't be.

Was I really so hung up Granger because… because I really _did _want her, more than just a usual shag? Come to think of it, I had never thought about a girl in my entire life than I thought about her.

But that was just preposterous.

I couldn't want her… right?

But I did.

I had feelings for Hermione Granger.

What the fuck was happening to me?

……………..

When I could see the house, I quickened my pace until I reached it. "Mum?" I called, sliding the glass door open and stepping inside. She was sitting on her couch, still in her green silk robe, reading the _Prophet_ next to the fire.

"Draco, darling, I hadn't even realized you were gone." What a way to know she cared. I walked over to her, placing a light peck on her cheek before sitting down in the armchair next to her.

"You didn't notice that I've been gone for two whole days?"

She glanced briefly at me over the paper, "well it's not like you come out of your room anyway, how was I supposed to know you were out?"

"You could have looked," I snorted out.

"I could have," she said casually, not really paying much attention to me. When she finally took a good look at me, her eyes widened and she closed the paper quickly, throwing it off to the side, "Oh my, Draco, what happened?"

My shirt had been wrinkled, and I was pretty sure my bottoms were ripped. The wind had blown my hair around, causing it to stick up in odd places. I reached up to run a hand through it, and pulled out a twig; I probably looked like death warmed over. "I'm fine, Mum, I got caught up in the storm last night. No big deal. I hid in a shed until it passed. No need to fret."

Determining that I was okay, she smiled softly at me, "I'm your mother, it's my job to fret. Now you missed breakfast, but Berta's in the kitchen now, mumbling to herself about some man named Charlie who lives down the street with his brother and nephew. They sound like a really… interesting bunch, the boy sounds particularly delightful."

"Wait a second, _you _talk to Berta now?" When my mother and I first went into hiding, we hadn't been able to bring anything with us, including any of our house elves. Living in a muggle town we couldn't do magic either for fear that they could track it, instead we had to use muggle appliances.

That hadn't gone so well.

After her first initial attempt that resulted in the explosion of some gooey substance, my mother gave up on trying to cook anything until she found Berta to do all the housework around here. That night it had taken her at least an hour to figure out how to work the phone and call for takeout.

"Don't look so shocked, Draco, it's not like I have anyone else to talk to around here. Besides, I didn't exactly _talk _to her, more like listen while she cooks. She's quite amusing, believe it or not. Anyway, I'm sure she'd be more than happy to whip something up for you."

She picked up the paper again, curling its edge around her finger nervously. I went to take it, but she noticed and crumpled it up into a ball and throwing it into the fire before I could get to it. "What in the bloody hell was that for?" I exclaimed.

"Oh, It's all rubbish, nothing worth reading, mainly that vile Skeeter woman. I'm surprised that they're still keeping her on, I don't believe she ever wrote a single honest word."

"I still would have liked to read it," I grumbled solemnly to myself.

"Don't be such a baby, darling, it's not an attractive quality. If you must, I left the quidditch section on the table. You know, I heard from Mrs. Parkinson this morning…" Picking up the paper from the table, I tuned her out as she talked. It was nothing of any importance to me anyway.

About twenty minutes had passed when my stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in almost a day. She was still talking when I went to cut her off, "… I went walking in town the other day and noticed a new muggle clothing store being built. They all look like tramps, now a day, what they wear – if you can even call it clothing – barley covers their backside. Where has all the class gone from the world? When I marri–"

"You know what, Mum," I said before she could continue talking, "I think I'm going to head on into the kitchen and see if Berta and get me something to eat." I really did love my mother, but sometimes there was only so much of her I could take.

"Oh, right, well then, see you later darling."

"Hello, Berta," I said walking into the kitchen, "how are you today?"

Berta was standing at the sink, a large dish in one hand, a soapy sponge in the other. "I'm just peachy considering I spend most of my day looking at dirty toilets and those Rorschach tests you call bed sheets. Hold up, what the hell happened to you," she said, taking one look at me, "it looks like you just lost a fight to the Juggernaut and the Tasmanian devil. I swear you go through more clothes in one day than octaves John Travolta can hit in a single song."

I let out a bark of laughter, "Not exactly, more like Mother Nature and Neptune. And who's John Travolta?"

She gave me an odd look, "Sometimes it's like you and your mother are from a different universe… Just leave those in the pile in your room and eat your sandwich. I have to get back to the drunken, jingle-writer and his fastidious parasite he calls a brother. Though I have to say, he cleans up after himself like a neurotic raccoon…"

The room was quite after Berta left, and I ate my dinner in silence, as I watched the sunset through the large bay windows. When I finished I took a shower, washing all the caked in salt and sand from my hair and but on clean clothes.

Needing to clear my head for a while, I left the house and wandered down the road in the direction of town. The sky was clear tonight, thousands of bright starts shined brightly in the inky sky. I didn't have a destination as I walked, so I followed my feet to wherever they took me.

It just so happened that they took me to her.

Hermione stood at the end of a dock that stretched out over the beach. Gentle waters lapped at the shore and at the beams that supported the dock. She was leaning on her elbows, overlooking the water and bathed in the light from the moon, and a faint breeze blew a few strands of her wavy hair around her head, and the loose skirt she was wearing out behind her.

My breath hitched; why had I never noticed how stunning she was before?

I stood at the end of the dock, and after taking a single step forward onto the weathered, old wood, she spoke, "It's strange, isn't it?" If she hadn't turned her head toward me then, I would have thought she was speaking to herself. "You're not as sneaky as you think, Draco Malfoy." She blushed slightly and smiled softly, "I saw your reflection in the water as you came up the beach."

For the second time in two days she had rendered me speechless and out of breath; two things that had never happened to me in the entirety of my life before.

Her entire body was facing me now, and she had stepped forward too and continued speaking, "I mean, up until yesterday, I _hated _you. You were cruel, vile, and just _mean_… hell, you still could be and then I'd really look like an idiot. But there's something about you now, I'm not sure what, that seems different. I don't believe – or I don't want to believe – that you're that person anymore." She was standing right in front of me now, our faces almost touching. Reaching up, she tenderly ran a single finger down my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. My eyes fluttered shut, and I leaned into it. "This is all so ridiculous. I'm sorry, I – I don't know what I was thinking…"

When she went to walk away from me, I reached out and grabbed her hand, "No, wait. Hermione, you're doing something to me, I can feel it, and though I'm not quite sure what it is yet, I do know that I _want _you. And I have never wanted someone so much in my entire life before."

Our bodies were just barley touching, our faces but a mere few inches apart. No longer able to hold myself back, I closed the distance between our faces, capturing her lips in mine in the softest of kisses. Jolts of electricity sent tingles down my back when she weaved her fingers into my hair, my own hands wrapping around her back to bring her closer to me. We broke away only when we both absolutely couldn't go without air any longer, my body reeling from the loss of contact and my heart pounding.

Looking into my eyes, she whispered words that sent the heart I didn't know I had, soaring, and pulled my head back down for a much more passionate kiss.

"You have me."

* * *

**AN: So… what did you think? Leave me a review and I'll send you a sneak peak. I love you all, but right now I'm not sure when my official update date will be, but I promise that it will be much, **_**much**_**, quicker. **

**Violingrl07, I also wanted to thank you for using the word "gobsmacked" in your review, it was brilliant, and I couldn't resist stealing it ;)**

**Until next time…**

**Next Chapter: **_**Hermione Granger**_


	11. Chapter 11

**Vienna **

**Chapter 11**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**AN: Well, once again, I love you all (and Anna, the most amazing beta in the world). I know you must hate me for not updating regularly, but come Monday, they will get much more frequent. That I **_**can**_** promise. **

* * *

**Chapter 11**

_**Hermione Granger**_

I refused to leave my office.

And to make it worse, I kept having these small panic attacks where my heart would constrict, my breathing become shallow and labored, and my hands shake uncontrollably – brought on just by solely _knowing_ that Draco was somewhere down the hall from me.

And it was driving me bloody insane.

Not to mention the fact that I was becoming something just short of a narcoleptic, falling asleep at my desk every few minutes. I was in desperate need of some caffeine.

Last night had not been easy emotionally for me. I had always known, from the time I was pregnant, that a day would come in which I had to have the "Daddy" talk with Emma, and even though I had spent five or so years preparing, it still felt like someone had ripped my heart out and stomped all over it.

Honestly, I would have preferred the sex talk over that.

Emma didn't deserve any of this either, she was just a little girl who only wanted her daddy.

I held back tears whilst talking to her, but once I reached my bedroom there was nothing I could do to hold them back.

Hours had passed when I was lying there. I was supposed to be strong for Emma, not the other way around. At some point she had come wandering into my room after a bad dream, when I had finally stopped crying, and we fell had fallen sleep together.

But in all the time that I had spent worrying about everything that affected Emma, I had completely neglected myself and how I was suffering.

Why couldn't I just go down the hall and face him? He was all I wanted; he was all I ever wanted. I was a good mother, I was a good witch, I was a good friend, and hell, we would have been great together. We _were_ great together.

Just when I thought I had a handle on my life and I that I was going to be okay alone, Harry had to come home announcing that he was here and kick me back down.

I didn't _deserve_ this!

Everything hurt, especially my heart. I loved him too bloody much, and no amount of time had changed that. When he was gone it had been easier to pretend like he had never existed, but he was always, always on my mind, and my only thought in living has been Draco.

People just weren't supposed to feel like this.

It was like an entire piece of me, piece of my soul, was missing; there is only one thing that can make a soul complete… and that thing is love.

And I loved Draco, I always will. True love lasts a lifetime.

"Somebody, please, kill me now," I said, banging my head down on my desk.

"Now don't you think that's just a tad premature, Miss Granger?" A voice above me spoke, and my head shot up to see Anna, my boss, standing above me, "I mean, I haven't even given you the case yet."

I shuffled the papers on my desk around hastily, trying to make some kind of order. "I'm sorry, Anna, I've just… got a lot on my mind. Just give me a sec, take a seat, please."

She sat down in the empty chair across from me and crossed her long legs while she folded her hands in her lap on top of a fairly large file. "Anything you care to talk about? Is everything okay at home, is Emma okay?"

Anna may have been my boss, but she was also a great friend who cared for Emma deeply, probably just as much as Luna or Ginny did. "No, no, Emma's fine. It's nothing really…"

Flipping her dark, auburn, hair over her shoulder, she quirked one perfect eyebrow at me; was I really that transparent? I bit my lip, could I trust her with this? "No, that's a lie. Not about Emma, she really is fine. I'm not. Oh, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. It's just – I thought that I had my life under control, I was somewhat happy, I had an amazing daughter whom I loved – love – more than anything else in the world, I was doing okay. But then yesterday I find out that Emma's father has suddenly decided to reappear after all this time. He doesn't even know her."

Everything just came spilling out, and I didn't mean to dump everything on her, but once I started it just became word vomit and I couldn't stop. She took her time in answering me, I could tell, mulling the words over in her head. It was easy to tell when she was doing that, she always tilted her head to the side.

"Have you talked to him yet?" She finally said after some time.

"No. I'm too afraid to." I admitted, hanging my own head.

"It can't hurt to try, what's the worst that could happen?" I didn't answer her. "See, I thought so. Now back to work. We've got a new case; here's the cliff notes version. Divorced woman living in Diagon Alley with her two sons decides to pick them up out of nowhere and move away with her new boyfriend. The thing is, she has joint custody with the father, whom she is refusing to let in. As in, no apparating, no fluing, plus wards around the house. We haven't been able to get anyone inside the house yet, but from what I've heard it's supposed to be a crap hole, and the boyfriend a real arse. I'm not getting too good a feeling about him. We'll send a few aurors next week to the house, hopefully they'll be able to breakdown the wards if she refuses to lower them. Okay then, get it, got it, good, I'll see you later." With that she rose, and smoothing out her skirt, she turned around and started to walk away.

Before she got more than a few feet, I stopped her, "Anna, wait!"

"Yes?"

"Who's my co-counselor?"

"Right, yes, almost forgot. Sorry. It's Blaise, Blaize Zabini."

Could this day get any worse?

I opened the folder on my desk and scanned my eyes over the papers inside to get all the detail. The woman, a Sarah , had graduated Hogwarts only a few years after I had started; she had no record, showed no signs of any psychological disorder. In fact, she seemed to be a perfect mother and model citizen. She was involved in the school and worked part time in one of Diagon Alley's nicer restaurants.

There was defiantly something off.

This was something I needed to talk to Blaise about, although I hated the thought. Reluctantly, I closed the folder, making my way over to his office. The large, wooden doors that separated us were intimidating, much like he was, but I knocked once, curtly, and braced myself.

"Come in," I heard, muffled through the think doors.

His office was inviting, it wasn't the first time I had been in here. My relationship with Blaise was… interesting, to say the least. We had an understanding of some sort based upon a mutually agreed upon dislike of the other, though we acted civilly.

Fighting and bickering like children isn't exactly proper work behavior.

He was leaning over his desk, a quill in hand, and writing on a piece of parchment. I cleared my throat, standing awkwardly in front of him, to get his attention. After a brief glance, he said, "You can sit down, Granger, just give me a moment to finish this." With a few more strokes, he placed his quill in its holder and looked back up at me, "So, I'm assuming that this visit is about the case."

"Well, it isn't exactly a social call." I snorted, "Have you read the file yet?"

"No hand it over." I placed it on his desk, and skimmed through the documents. "How's that kid of yours?" he asked.

Blaise, for some unknown reason, was quite fond of Emma – I think it had something to do with the part of Emma that was more like Draco – and she loved to see him whenever I bought her into work. By the end of the day, I would usually find her sprawled out across his office floor, surrounded by her coloring books. For that reason, I tolerated him.

Sometimes I wondered what house she would be in when she reached Hogwarts age, you didn't really find too many children like her because of the inter-house rivalries. Of course I hoped that she would end up in Gryffindor, but she tended to have these moments that just screamed Slytherin.

Especially that little blackmail habit of hers; she was quite the little manipulator when she wanted to be.

"She's fine, how's the wife?"

He cracked a small smile – okay so maybe he wasn't _that_ bad, "She's fine too." I let him continue reading, and about a minute passed before he closed the file and addressed me, "Something is _not_ right here."

"I completely agree. It just doesn't add up, she has no prior record, no history of anything like this; it doesn't fit. Not to mention that she has had the same agreement with her ex-husband for the past three years without any issues. Their divorce even went smoothly. She and her sons lived a comfortable life in a nice apartment, yet she chooses to move to barely a step up from a slum. And the fact that it was so random, so sudden, makes me think that there was some kind of outside intervention."

"You mean like a spell, or potion?" He asked, "Whom by?"

"My money's on the new boyfriend, John Kingpin. According to a few sources they've only been dating for a couple of weeks, and _he_ does have a record." Blaise opened up the file, and handed over to me the piece of parchment that was his record, "I'm surprised he hasn't been locked up for more than just a few years between embezzlement, petty thefts, breaking and entering… God, there's even statutory rape _and_ large number of FWIs. How did he avoid doing so much time?"

"The hell if I know," Blaise said, taking a look at the parchment for himself. "She's definitely under some kind of spell, and my first guess would be the Imperious Curse, though he could just as well be using a love potion of some sort. But why Sarah? You'd think he would chose someone younger, with no kids– oh no."

"You don't think…"

"I'm not sure what to think at this point." Blaise put his head in his hands and started to massage his temples. "But I don't trust this man, and something's telling me that he's a little more interested in the kids, then in Sarah. Why else would he pick her?"

I had a feeling that Blaise was right, but I hoped to God that it wasn't true. "What we need to do is get inside this guy's mind because I think you're right. Whatever is going on here, this man is the root of the problem. The first thing we need to do is get some aurors in, we're no profilers. Do you know who's been assigned to the case?"

"No, I'll have to go pay Janssen a visit–" There was a sharp knock on the door, and startled, we both jumped and turned toward it. I guess we were a little more wrapped up in this than we thought. "Uh… come in," Blaise said as a nervous looking Ron stuck his head in the door.

"Ronald, what are you doing here?"

"Well, um, Luna wanted me to find out what you and Emma would like for dinner tonight. I'm sorry to interrupt."

Ron was standing anxiously in the doorway, his body half in and half out; too apprehensive to completely come into the room. Though people like Blaise and Draco were innocent, Harry and Ron had never completely forgiven them. "You can tell Luna that I'll eat anything, but I'll have to bring for Emma. The only thing she eats these days are chicken fingers."

"Chicken fingers?" Both Blaise and Ron said in unison.

"Do chickens even _have_ fingers?" Blaise asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

I let a small laugh escape from between my lips, "Chicken fingers are a type of muggle food. You're not actually eating fingers. Ron, just tell Luna that I'll bring it."

"Okay, well… er… see you later." He smiled weakly in my direction, "Blaise" he said with a nod in his direction.

Just as he went to close the door, Harry burst in to room, fuming and looking like he was ready to murder someone. For the love of Merlin, this was not the time, "Hermione!" He yelled.

"Harry, please, try to calm down. What's wrong?" I don't think in all the years that I had known him, I had ever seen him this mad, and it was scaring me.

"You know bloody well 'what'. For fuck's sake, Hermione, why'd you do it? Why him?"

Blaise and Ron, who had absolutely no idea what was happening, were watching us like they would a tennis game, their heads whipping back and forth between Harry and me. "Let's not do this here, Harry. I promise I'll tell you everything, but not here."

"NO! I deserve the truth, and I want it right _now_! I'm your best friend, or at least I thought I was!"

"Will somebody please just tell us what's going on…" Ron started to say before Harry and I cut him off with a rather loud 'shut up'.

"You want to know why I didn't tell you the truth, do you? Because of _this_, because I knew you would act this way! You wouldn't understand, it wasn't like I had planned on getting pregnant or even getting _close_ to him, IT JUST HAPPENED!"

"Then why did you do it!" At this point, we were both yelling, standing on complete opposite sides of the room. Blaise and Ron were standing by the doorway like they didn't know whether they should make a run for it, or continue to watch our very heated argument. Neither of them had any idea what we were talking about.

A couple of tears had fallen out of the sides of my eyes and slipped down my cheek. The last thing I needed now was to start balling. "BECAUSE I _LOVE _HIM!"

An eerie silence from everybody followed for a moment, and Harry's body was shaking with anger, but I kept my eyes on his wand – partially because I was afraid he might hex me, and because I was too mortified to look him in the eyes.

"That's just fucking unbelievable, Hermione! You're… you're… you're fraternizing with the enemy!"

"The enemy? The enemy! You very well know that he is _not_ the enemy anymore! Why can't you just accept that, Harry? We're not eleven anymore, we're not in school, though right now you're acting like you're sixteen again!"

A new voice spoke from the doorway, and all four of us spun around to face it, "Harry. James. Potter." Ginny said, her voice toneless and flat and her lips were pursed in a thin line. "Leave. Hermione. Alone."

Harry's anger morphed to terror, and instead of shaking, his face had now palled and little breads sweat started to condense of his forehead. It was he like he was visibly shrinking under the scrutiny of Ginny's intense glare.

"But– " He started to stutter, but Ginny cut him off.

"NOW" she yelled, pointing towards the door. Defeated, he walked off, head hung in shame as Ron followed him out.

Ginny was now focused on me, standing with on hand on her hip, the other on her pregnant belly. "So here I am, coming to see if my best friend is okay and take her out to lunch, and what do I find, said best friend _and_ my husband at each other's throats." I opened my mouth to explain, but she put her finger up, successfully silencing me, "Save it, let's go."

Guiltily, I looked from Blaise to Ginny, there was no use arguing with her, "Blaise, I'm sorry, can you tell Anna I'm taking the rest of the day off? There's not much we can do anyway until we get someone inside that house."

"Uh… yea sure. See you tomorrow."

Neither Ginny nor I said a word as I collected my things and walked through the ministry to the apparition point. We didn't talk as we walked through Diagon Alley, we didn't even dare stand next to each other, instead, I trudged along behind Ginny, looking much like Harry had when he left the room.

"So," she said after we finally sat down in a small café.

"So…" I repeated. "Where's James

"He's with my mother. Come on, Hermione, I'm pregnant, not stupid. I'm surprised Ron hasn't figured it out by now. First you decide not to tell anybody because we all hated him, then you faint upon hearing Draco Malfoy's name, and to top it all off, she looks just like him! I have no idea why I didn't think of it in the first place, Emma's the spitting image of him."

"Hated?"

"Yes, Hermione, hated. Like you said, we're not in school anymore, I haven't seen the man in six years, _and_ I'm assuming that if you could fall in love with him, then he must not be as terrible of a person as I thought him to be. What I don't understand is why you didn't tell me, I'm your best friend, 'Mione, you can tell me anything. I can't help you when you don't let me."

I was such a terrible person, hurting my friend. I should have trusted her, that's what friends are for. Instead I acted like selfish idiot, she was only ever trying to help me. Her pain was written all over her face and in her eyes, a small, sad smile graced her lips. If I hung my head any lower, my forehead would be touching the floor. "God, I feel like this is the twentieth time I've said this today." I raised my head to look her in the eyes, even though it was causing me to tear up again. I really need to stop crying, I was turning into such a cry baby. "I was scared, Ginny. Hell, I'm still scared. What do I do now that he's back? It was so much easier with him gone, I never had to worry about telling him because he wasn't here, but now I don't know what to do. It's not like there are any rules for this kind of thing. Do I confront him, or do I just wait for him to find out?"

Just like last night, Ginny was holding my hand and speaking softly like she would with a little girl who had just lost her doll, "I think you have to tell him, sweetie. He deserves to know."

I let a small snort escape, "He doesn't deserve anything, he left me, remember? Ginny, I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm in a dark tunnel and don't know where that 'light at the end of tunnel' is located."

"Do you remember that talk that Dumbledore give at the start of your third year and my second?"

"Not exactly, no. Why do you ask?" I tried to think back to those years, but they were so long ago that I could barely remember getting off the train, much less what Dumbledore had said.

"Well… I think what he said might be the answer to some of your problems, you can't keep wallowing in your own self pity, it won't get you anywhere."

"And what was it that Dumbledore said? Come on, woman, spit it out."

She let out a little laugh before continuing, "He said, 'You know happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to turn on the light' It really was this statement that kept me and others in the DA going while you, Harry, and Ron were out there hunting Voldemort. That was our darkest time at school, it was the darkest time for everybody, but even we were able to find some moments of happiness. Like when someone had a birthday; Doby and Winky would make sure that there was cake and food so we could have some type of celebration. Granted, it wasn't much, but it did give us a small chance to celebrate something and to get our minds off of the horrors that were taking place. There are worse things in life, Hermione, but you need to do what makes _you_ happy."

I didn't say anything after that.

I couldn't say anything after that.

But I knew one thing for sure; Ginny was right – I had to tell him…tomorrow.

………..

"James, James please come down from there, and give Mummy and Daddy back their wand," Harry pleaded with James, who had suspended himself in a tree there in the park by the Ministry.

"Harry, let me handle James, this requires a mother's touch... James Sirius Potter! You stop this nonsense _right now_!" James merely laughed and pointed their wands at a nearby leaf that started changing colors and then abruptly started smoking and erupting in a tiny display of fireworks. Proud of his little display of magic, James clapped his hands and smiled, repeating the process on yet another leaf.

"You call _that _handling it? What in the bloody hell are we supposed to do now?"

"Language! You know he's been picking up everything we're saying lately! And don't look at me, Mr. Chosen One; you're the one who let him _play_ with your wand."

"Well, _you're _the one who put their wand down on the ground so he could grab it! But we shouldn't be fighting about this now, Ginny, all this fighting isn't good for the baby." Harry's voice quieted down, in attempt to sooth Ginny, as she was close to hysterics.

"Harry," she held up her fingers in indication, "the baby is three inches long. All this arguing is upsetting the mummy."

I laughed at their little display. "Twenty eight minutes and thirty three seconds," I said to them after looking at my watch.

"What?" Ginny asked me, clearly confused.

"I said, twenty eight minutes and thirty three seconds. It's how long James has been stuck up there. And it's how long your pointless arguing resulted in quite a few leaves disappearing from the tree. See?" I pointed up at the tree where James was now contently shooting at the leaves; he obviously stopped listening to his parents quite some time ago. "James, honey, I'll give you a cookie if you come down from there."

Once James heard the word 'cookie', he stopped everything and dropped the wands. Harry went to catch them as I levitated James back down to the floor. He took the cookie greedily from my hands and swallowed it whole. Ginny came over and grabbed him when he was done, and dragged him away so she could yell at him.

Which left Harry and me.

Alone.

We still hadn't talked about what had transpired this morning, opting for a nod of recognition when we first saw each other after my lunch with Ginny.

Harry was the first to speak, "Hermione… Hermione, I'm sorry. I was way out of line; I can see why you chose not to tell me."

"Oh, Harry," I said, pulling him into a hug, "It's okay, I should have been honest with you in the first place. You probably took it better then Ron will, I wonder how long it'll take before I have to tell him."

Harry returned the hug, "Well, whenever you do decide to tell him I'll be right there with you. You and Emma are family, I love you guys."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, 'Mione. So, where is Emma, she's been so quite."

I let go of Harry and turned around and pointed to the spot where I had put Emma and a few of her toys, but when my eyes finally landed on it, she wasn't there. "Oh God…" I said, already panicking.

When Harry noticed he immediately ran over to Ginny, and I could see him pointing frantically towards me while saying something to her, but I couldn't make out what it was. They boy came running back over, James on Ginny's hip.

"Hermione," Ginny asked me, laying a hand on my arm, "when was the last time you saw Emma?"

I racked my brains trying to remember, I had been so caught up in what James was doing that I had forgotten my own daughter. I really was a failure as a mother, "Um… ten minutes ago?" It sounded more like a question then an answer.

Auror instinct kicking in, Harry started, "Okay, we need to split up. Ginny, you and James should stay here, just in case she comes back. Hermione, you take the wizarding size of the park closest to the ministry, I'll take the muggle side. If you find her, shoot red sparks up into the air."

We went our separate ways, running around as we called out to Emma. I hoped to God that she had only wandered off and wasn't taken. Please just let her be okay.

Only about five minutes passed until I heard her angelic voice calling out to me. Blocking out everything else around me, I focused on my baby and bolted over to her, enrapturing her in a hug afraid I was never going to let go.

"_Never_ scare me like that again, do you hear me?" I asked sternly. Who was I kidding, I couldn't be stern at a time like this. I checked over her body and noticed a fair amount of blood on her leg, yet the cut seemed to be all healed, "Baby girl, what happened?"

"Oh, I fell and got a boo-boo. But it's all better now, Mr. Draco fixed it."

Mr. Draco?

Shit.

"Mr. Draco?" I wanted to make sure I had heard her correctly, that my ears weren't just playing tricks on me. I was so screwed.

"Yea, this is Mr. Draco, he helped me find you too, Mummy." She raised one tiny finger and pointed it up towards the man I hadn't noticed standing above me.

It was Draco.

And then, like nothing had changed, my heart started to beat faster, I was pretty sure he could hear it palpitating against my chest.

I couldn't breathe, either.

The look in his eyes told me he knew, how could he not?

He was going to hate me, I should have told him, I should have found a way to track him down and tell him.

How could I have been so incredibly stupid?

I think I wanted him to hate me, because I couldn't hate him, and oh God, how I wanted to.

Shit.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Shit." I finally said out loud. "Come on, Emma baby, let's go home."

I took her by the hand and started to pull her along behind me, though she was struggling a little bit. "Wait, mummy, I want to say good bye to Mr. Draco, please? You should thank him too."

How could I refuse her, "Thank you" I said without turning around or looking him in the eye. Before I knew it, Emma had wiggled her way out of my grasp, and I turned around finally to see what she was doing. She had launched herself at Draco, catching him by surprise. I heard her say a 'thank you too' before detaching herself and skipping on over to me.

"Mummy, I don't want to leave Mr. Draco."

"Neither do I, baby," I said, "Neither do I."

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**AN: Review, review, review! I know you were expecting a little more of a reaction, but I wanted you to see Draco's before you saw Hermione's. So the next chapter I am leaving up to you guys. Your choices are a) **_**Draco Malfoy**_** or b) **_**Six Years Ago**_**… with a LEMON. Leave your vote in a review or send me a PM and I'll send you your sneak peak, but you must _review _;)**

**Until next time, my lovelies… **


	12. Chapter 12

**Vienna **

**Chapter 12**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**AN: So I know I say this all the time, but I really am sorry this is so late. For some reason, it was a very hard chapter for me to write, and not the best two weeks… my grandmother was just diagnosed with lung cancer, so I wasn't very inspired… but I'm back and I've been doing word challenges nightly, and honestly they really do help me write more. Once again thank you to all my lovely reviewers, my silent readers… and of course Anna. I hope I got all of you, my email wasn't exactly cooperating either.**

**Enjoy! **

**(Oh, and if any of my WC girlies are reading this… thanks for all the support guys, I love you all :)**** )**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

_**Draco Malfoy**_

I was a monster.

No, I was worse than a monster; I was lower than any demon or pitiful soul that was currently rotting in hell.

The Devil had nothing on me. Purgatory was no place for me, I deserved so much worse.

I was a father… dear God… I was a _father_.

_Six years_, six fucking years, I went without knowing.

And then I had just let her _walk _away. I didn't even say anything. Not a 'don't go', or a 'please stay' or even an apology. What hurt the most, though, was just watching her walk away. Everything I wanted to say to her just got caught in my mouth, and in a matter of mere seconds I was reduced to nothing more than a blubbering idiot and made a complete ass out of myself.

Although I'm pretty sure Hermione already thought I was.

It was dark out now as I stumbled through the streets of a small muggle town in an attempt to find a halfway decent bar, anything to get my mind off of Hermione and Emma; it was just too much to process right now. People in the streets ran away from me, the crazed son-of-a-death-eater madman, while others pointed and whispered. I couldn't distinguish between voices, and they all blurred together and buzzed in my ear like one of those infuriating bugs you just wanted to squish.

Why couldn't I find a damn pub already?

Quite a few families walked right by me, and it was maddening how happy they looked. Hermione hated me, I was so bloody sure of that, there was no way she was going to let me into Emma's life – how could I ever expect her too?

I didn't deserve the honor.

Finally, I spotted a small pub down the road. The door was propped open and I could hear loud music streaming out, accompanied by the boisterous laughter coming from the people within. Not exactly the type of place I was looking for, but as long as I could get absolutely shitfaced, it would do.

The pub itself was small, yet it seemed as if the entire town had gathered inside. Large groups of friends surrounded tiny tables piled high with pitchers of amber liquid, while others chose to sit at the counter in the middle of the room. As they nursed their own drinks, a rather large, flat box hung on the wall and displayed a stream of moving pictures featuring a tiny man kicking a ball. Every once in a while some idiot would yell out to it, usually something along the lines of, "come on you fat piece of shit, get your asses movie and kill the Italians." Is this honestly what muggles do for fun… it was vile.

I opted for one of the empty wooden stools under the counter.

A bartender – who looked to be in her early twenties – started to make her way over to me. She looked amiable enough; a sweet and innocent smile graced her young face, and a messy bun of black hair rested atop her head.

"What can I get for you?" she said in a light, airy voice. Something about her reminded me of the little girl I had met in the park today… of Emma… my Emma… my _daughter_.

I moaned and slammed my head down onto the table, "The strongest stuff you have," I mumbled, my voice muffled by my arm.

"Sure thing sweat pea." Reaching behind her, she pulled a bottle of bourbon from a shelf and poured an ample amount into a medium sized cup. "Here you are, it looks like you could use this."

The alcohol burned my throat in an oddly bittersweet way as it slid down my throat. "You have no idea…"

"Well then, why don't you enlighten me?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time." She placed the bottle next to my cup and propped her elbows up onto the counter, "Anyway, it's my job. They won't need me out there. I'm Olivia, by the way."

"Draco." I said with a slight nod of the head. For a few seconds all I did was stare at the gilded contents of my cup as I swirled it around and took another sip. It still burned, though slightly less. "I just found out I'm a father." Saying it out loud did no more to sedate me than it would have if I had just kept it to myself. Wasn't saying things out loud supposed to help, remove the weight that had been sitting on my chest?

No, it was still there, as heavy as ever.

Her smile warmed a bit and widened, "Congratulations. So what's got you so down?"

"She's… five. I just met her." It flattered.

"Oh, dear Lord. Here, have some more." More bourbon appeared in my glass… bless her soul, "How did you find out."

"I saw them in the park, Emma – that's her name, my _daughter_, that is – was lost and I helped her. I didn't even realize… but she looks… just like me. And then Hermione, she just walked away from me, but I can't really blame her. After what I did I'd be damned if she ever talked to me again."

"What did you do?" Olivia whispered, dark eyes soft yet curious.

I snorted in a sarcastic way, "Isn't it a little obvious? I left, right after I promised her that I would never leave. And to make matters worse, I left her pregnant and alone. I can see why she didn't exactly come running with arms wide open."

"I'm assuming you loved her, right?" I nodded – what did that have to do with anything, "But tell me, was it love, big love, or great love?"

"What do you mean?"

She sighed and straightened up so she wasn't leaning on the counter anymore, a small piece of hair escaped the confines of her bun and she quickly put it back into place. "Love you get over in two months, big love you get over in two years, and, well, great love… great love changes your life... So which one is it?" I didn't answer her; I couldn't even look her in the eye. I knew which one it was. So I took the easy way out, raising my half empty glass to my mouth, "Oh my, it's great love."

That's just great.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

My answer was harsh; much more so then I had meant it to be, "You think if I knew I would be here right now?" I finished my glass and she gave me more. "Neither of us had any idea what to expect when we returned home. Our families didn't really like each other, so to speak. We were really planning on just winging it."

"Maybe that's exactly what you need to do. 'Wing it'. Listen, you obviously love her, so go get her back."

"It's a little late now." I spoke into my glass.

"You can't know that unless you try. Tell me, what's the worst that can happen? She'll say no? Sure it'll hurt, but at least _then_ you will know. You have to fight for her, Draco. If you love her, you _will_ fight for her. Because if you don't, what's the point? It'll only hurt you."

"Olivia," some man standing in a doorway towards the back of the room called, "we need you."

She turned around and yelled out that she would be right there and then faced me again. With a sympathetic smile, she said, "You'll figure it out, I know you will. Anyway, the thing about romance is that people only get together right at the very end."

Then she left.

And I was alone.

It seemed to be a pattern in my life.

She was right, of course. The worst Hermione _could_ do was say no, but I didn't think that that I could handle the rejection.

Not being with her hurt, the fear that I would never have her killed me. So either way I looked at it, I was just in pain. I was being a coward again, and Hermione doesn't need – nor does she want – a coward. What she needed was someone strong, someone to protect her… and Emma.

All anybody wants in life is to be loved, but the way I see it, love only leads to heart ache. And if love always leads to heart ache, then what's the point? Why should we go searching for something that is only going to hurt us more then when we were alone? Sure you can sugar coat it, romanticize it, draw a bunch of fat babies shooting heart-shaped arrows and give it a holiday, but once that initial excitement fades, what are you left with besides memories that are too painful to look back on?

When you love somebody, truly love them with every fiber of your being, you leave yourself vulnerable, and that's the most terrifying part. And no one person wants to experience that much pain, so they just close their hearts up and keep the pain or the love from ever entering.

But I had let my heart open, and now I couldn't close it back up. I had a taste of love, and it was addicting. It pulled you in and held you, so that you couldn't so much as breath unless your other half was with you. Maybe that's what really causes the heart ache.

Merlin, now I was confusing myself.

I could speculate and overanalyze it all I wanted, but what it all came down to was that it hurt.

What a sick masochist I was.

And there was only one way I knew that could effectively remove the pain.

So I took another drink.

…………………

"More." I demanded.

"I can't give you anymore," Said the grizzly bear-of-a-man in front of me. "You've had three drinks more than the house limit. You either have to leave, or you have to stop drinking."

I had this warm, tingly feeling pulsating throughout my body. But I didn't want to be warm, I wanted to be numb. I wanted to drink myself numb.

Numb was easier.

Everything around me was hazy; most people no longer had any true shape, they were more like colorful moving blobs, blurred beyond recognition.

I still needed more.

The smart thing would probably have been to stop about five glasses ago, but I couldn't. It was like giving the elixir of life to a dying man. Once you've given them a little, it's impossible to stop.

Why couldn't he just give me one more bloody glass?

"Listen, you half-wit-fruitcake," I snarled, attempting to rise from my seat but failing out of dizziness, "Tonight has been by far the shittiest night ever, and now my life is completely fucked up. All I would like is one more damn drink so that I can pass out peacefully. Is that too much to ask for?"

All the alcohol I had consumed was slowing down my reactions and retarding my thoughts, and I couldn't act quickly enough as Grizzly-man's face turned beat red and he lunged forward, grabbing my shirt collar. He yanked me forward and out of my seat, stopping dangerously close to his face.

"I said, you're done." He released my shirt and pushed me backwards. Had I been sober, I could have caught myself, but instead I just tumbled onto the floor. "Now beat it or I'm going to call security."

I stood up a little shakily and walked out with as much dignity as I could muster. It wasn't very much. Now where could I go? I wanted to go to Hermione and have her take care of me, tell me that everything was going to work out, but I don't think she'd take too kindly to me showing up intoxicated.

My mother was out of the question too; I didn't want to be fussed over.

Which left… since when did I have no friends…me, Draco Malfoy, most popular boy in Slytherin and probably the entire school.

Wait a second, I still had Blaise. Good old Blaise. He'd talk to me now; how could I have been so stupid to forget him?

The streets were cold and wet in the very early morning hours. It had to be at least four or five. I'm not too sure, reading my watch was making me dizzy. In fact, everything was making me dizzy even though nothing seemed to be moving.

I puked in a garbage can… or I think it was a garbage can.

Now my only problem was getting _to _Blaise. I couldn't fly for risk of getting a FWI, plus I didn't even have my broom. Apparating was too dangerous too, I would probably splinch, and I kind of needed all my limbs.

Somewhere down the street I could just barely make out a street lamp in the blurred darkness. I dragged my drunken ass towards it and laid down on the small wooden bench underneath it.

I puked again, this time over the side.

The hard wood was cold against my cheek and uncomfortable. How the hell was I going to get out of here? I was so close to crying… I've never cried in my entire life. Even when my father died, I didn't cry. But now, I wanted to cry. I didn't care anymore; I didn't care about my reputation, or my family's name and money… I just didn't care.

So I let myself cry. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but all of a sudden I was filled with this sense of such self-hate and utter grief, like it would never go away. It was such a powerful emotion, stronger than anything I had ever felt in my life. I didn't know how to handle it.

God, this was so unlike me. It was like I was turning into a freaking girl.

Come on, Draco, man up. Crying isn't going to fix anything.

I sat up a bit too quickly and wiped the tears out of my eyes and then started to massage my temples. God damnit, I needed to get to Blaise already. He would know what to – holly fucking hell! He knew! Why didn't I notice before, the asshole knew. It was so obvious between all of his cryptic 'responsibility' crap. I was going to kill the bastard. I slapped myself in the forehead out of stupidity.

Ouch. Not the best idea.

My head was still pounding, when some kind of obnoxious flashing bright lights and honking horns started coming from down the street. It wasn't helping at all.

When I looked up, a large, purple, triple-decker bus screeched to a stop in front of me, and a pimply-faced, scrawny kid I knew to be Stan Shunpike stepped out.

He started speaking in a bored voice, "Hello, my name is Stan Shunpike and I'll be your conductor–" I cut him off; his voice was awfully irritating and doing nothing for my pounding head.

"Will you please, for the love of Merlin, shut up, you zit-faced-half-wit. I honestly don't care who you are or what you do so long as you get me to where I want to be." Okay so maybe that was a little harsh, but he really was annoying. He looked a little shocked but I continued, "Now are you just going to stand there and gawk at me, or are you going to move aside and let me on the damn bus?"

Timidly, he moved aside and I stumbled up the steps, pushing past. His voice was shaky as he followed behind me, "Wha-what can I-I do fo-for you Mr.-Mr. Malfoy?" This guy really needed to grow a backbone, even though I was kind of glad to see _someone_ still afraid of me tonight. It was a real ego booster, I'll tell you that much.

"I need to go to Zabini Manor, now." I demanded, my words slightly slurred. Hopefully he wouldn't pick up on it."

"Ye-yes of course… ste-step on it Ernie." The old man with poor vision (why in the world he was driving a bus if he could barely see, beats me) pulled some levers and the bus shot forward. I lost my balance, again, and fell onto one of the beds, and they rolled across the floor with each turn of the bus. It was a little ridiculous; they should really nail them to the floor. All the sharp movements were making me want to be sick again.

Zit-boy approached me, this time with a small slip of paper in his hand. He hesitantly held it out and I swiped it from between his fingers. Not even bothering to look at the price I dug my hand into my pockets and pulled out a handful of money, dumping it into his greasy hands. When he saw how much I had given him, his face brightened a little, but he immediately covered it up, retreating back to the front of the bus.

I tried to brace myself as it came skidding to a halt, but it was to no avail, and I was flung forward once again. Mumbling to myself, I brushed past Stan and ran off the bus, releasing the contents of my stomach into a nearby bush. There couldn't possibly be anything left in there now.

Zabaini Manor held an air of ominous importance even at night, but it could no longer scare me. A wrought iron gate, almost twice as tall as me, stood at the beginning of the long passageway covered in wisteria and vines, and surrounded on both sides by think hedges. And it was locked.

Ah fuck.

I could feel the anger bubbling up inside of me; I needed to yell at Blaise, now. The selfish bastard knew everything and yet he still kept everything to himself. Even when he could see I was clearly suffering. Hundreds of ways in which I could murder Blaise swarm through my clouded brain, and with each passing thought my hand would curl slightly more into a fist until the only think I had to do to alleviate my anger was to punch the gate.

And I think I broke my hand. But at least now there was slightly less pain, and the less pain I felt the more numb I could be.

It was still dark outside, though I doubted it would stay that way much longer. Blaise and Astoria were probably sleeping, and though I could have just sat there on the ground and waited for him to leave for work in a few hours, I didn't want to.

"BLAISE ZABINI." I yelled, banging my fists on the gate, "YOU GET YOUR NO-GOOD, BLOODY RETARTED, WANKER ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW." Nothing happened, "I'M SERIOUS, YOU GIT. OPEN THE DAMN GATE OR I'LL BLOW IT OPEN."

And still nothing happened. But just as I was reaching for my wand, a room in the front of the Manor was illuminated, and there was a slight movement of one of the curtains, and a dark head of hair poked out of the window. "Draco, mate? Is that you? What the fuck are you doing here; it's four thirty in the bloody morning. Can't this wait?" His voice was still groggy from sleep, and I had to strain my ears to hear him.

"JUST OPEN THE GATE ALREADY. LET ME THE FUCK IN." I was starting to get cold. Blaise turned around so I couldn't see his face anymore, no doubt talking to Astoria to see whether or not he should let the crazed drunk in the house or leave him outside. I vote for in. "ASTORIA, I'M SORRY I WOKE YOU, BUT PLEASE LET ME IN THE GODDAMN HOUSE. I'M FREEZING MY EFFING ARSE OFF OUT HERE."

He looked back at me and hung his head, giving it a slight shake, "Alright already, no need to shout, we heard you the first time. You can come in, meet me in the study, I'll get a house elf to show you the way."

The gate creaked open as Blaise closed the window, and I ambled up the path leisurely, in all my drunken glory… I probably looked like a nut-job. A small, shaky house elf opened the door for me and I followed it into Blaise's large study. The room was lit by a large fireplace on the far wall, next to it sat Blaise in a plush armchair. "So, to what do I owe this lovely little pleasure this fine morning?" he said with a yawn, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Draco, your eye is twitching… are you… _drunk_?"

I didn't want to talk small talk with him, so I just kept yelling, "You knew! You knew all this time and you didn't tell me! You didn't even mention it in a Goddamn letter, every single time I asked you how she was, and you didn't even think to tell me!"

"Tell you what?" His face was suddenly hard.

"Don't give me that shit, Zabini. And don't say you didn't know either, she looks JUST LIKE ME." I collapsed into a chair, putting my head back into my hands. Oh God, here come the sissy-girl waterworks; they fell in buckets into my hands. "Everyone knew, you, Pansy – the whole fucking world – but me."

Blaise got out of his seat and sat down in the chair next to me, placing an awkward hand on my shoulder. "How did you… how did you find out?"

The hiccups had started. "I-hiccup ran in-hiccup-to her in-hiccup the-hiccup park to-hiccup-day. Sh-She was-hiccup lost-hiccup."

"Oh, well… have you talked to Hermione yet?"

"Does it _look_ like I have? Why, Blaise, _why_? If you had just told me, I would have come back… I would have come back." There was nothing I could do to control my tears anymore, and they fell freely out of my eyes. What was I becoming? First I was a monster – I still am a monster – now I'm some sissy cry baby who can't keep himself together.

Blaise's hand dropped from my shoulder and he stood up violently, "That shouldn't have been your only reason to come back, Draco. You should have come because you wanted to. If you really loved Hermione as much as you say you do, THEN YOU WOULD HAVE COME BACK." His sudden and unexpected outburst shocked me, and I wasn't sure what to say. "Gods Draco, how many effing times do I have to tell you this? It's like talking to a wall; you never seem to get it! What do you want me to do, pity you? I'm sorry, mate, but I'm out of pity. This is your responsibility, your fault, and now _you_ have to deal with the consequences. You're a grown man, start acting like one!"

I just stared at him. Never, in my entire life, has Blaise ever yelled at me like that before… I-I didn't know what to say or do _except _stare. All the anger inside of me had dissipated after my little batch of cathartic yelling, and _now_ I felt numb.

And I was right… numb felt great.

"Listen," Blaise said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "you can stay here for the rest of the night… or morning… but this is the last time I let you dump all that self-loathing shit on me. It's your problem, deal with it."

Another shy house self appeared as Blaise left the room, and I followed dumbly behind it as it lead me through the great house and to one of the lavish guest rooms.

Honestly though, I was so tired I could have slept on one of couches in the parlor.

The bed looked so inviting and comfortable, and I got undressed as it called me without thinking and slipped under the covers

And I blew out the light.

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**AN: So… what did you think? It wasn't my favorite chapter. It may have seemed a little bit all over the place and ADD, but he is **_**drunk**_**, but I hope you liked it. After all, that's what matters :)**** Review, Review, Review and you'll get a sneak peak! I now have all the free time in the world to write, but again because I feel so bad about keeping it for so long, I'm opening questions back up. Come on guys, take advantage of that ;) **

**Follow me on twitter too! The link is in my profile.**

**Next Chapter: Six Years Ago (LEMON) **


	13. Chapter 13

**Vienna **

**Chapter 13**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**AN:**

**I'm back…..**

**Okay so I know you guys must all hate me by now, but I really am sorry that it took me so long to update! I had a massive case of writer's block, and if you add that to being a full time working student, I never had any time to just sit and write. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and I'm so grateful to those who stuck with this story. I promise I wont give up on this story; it will be finished. **

**And, of course, a super big shout out to my beta, Anna. She's the best. **

**So after a ridiculously long note….**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

**Chapter 13: Six Years Ago**

_**Draco Malfoy**_

I was… happy.

Actually, now that I think about it, I was _too _happy.

The mid-July sun beat down heavily from its place in the afternoon sky, and warmed my front while the sand underneath me warmed me from behind... Everything was just so perfect.

Hermione moaned next to me as my fingers weaved through her hair and massaged the top of her neck. Her head was resting on my stomach, and her silken curls tickled the exposed skin.

"Mhmm," she said, "that feels so good. Don't stop."

"I wasn't planning to, love." Her hand came to rest just above my bathing suit and she started to move her fingers in a circular pattern against my skin, making by body shiver involuntarily. Noticing this, Hermione turned over so that we were facing each other and stared up at me from underneath her thick eyelashes.

God, she was so beautiful.

Every time I looked at Hermione since that night of the storm two weeks ago, something inside of me would stir, like a whole new part of me was being awakened. It was an… odd feeling; terrifying yet exhilarating all at the same time. I never wanted to be away from her, and when I was, my whole body hurt, and there was some kind of tugging from inside of my chest like something was trying to pull me back to her.

Without her, it was like half of me was missing… the good half, too.

Did I love her, or was this merely a lustful attraction, driven by the need to be close to someone after a devastating war and powered by teenage hormones? I wanted to love her, to be not only physically closer, but mentally and spiritually closer to another person than I have ever been in my life. I craved it, and I was so close that I could almost taste it.

And I was pretty damn sure that Hermione was starting to feel the same way.

The intensity of the passion in her burning gaze made my heart melt in my chest, and I could feel myself harden slightly. Now was not the time for this.

She seemed to notice too, and in what I assumed was an effort to torture me, lowered her lips to my abdomen and started a trail of feathery light kisses that burned my skin all the way up to the base of my neck, never once breaking eye contact. With our faces level and our noses touching, she lowered her head again captured my lips in a smoldering kiss.

Oh boy was I screwed now.

"Hermione… love…" She focused her attention on my chin, and started kissing along my jawbone. "We can't… not here…" For the love of Merlin, did I want to, but what I really meant was, 'either you stop right now or I won't be able to control myself and will have to take you right here on the beach in front of all these people.' Apparently, though, she wasn't having any of that as she reclaimed my lips and moaned into them eliciting a moan from me as well. It only encouraged her. I propped myself up on my elbows to avoid her attack of kisses, and pulled away slightly.

She stopped and sat down in front of me, playing with the sand by my feet, swirling it around and flicking some at me. "You're no fun," she pouted, looking up at me with her puppy-dog eyes and sticking out her lower lip. Fuck, she was so Goddamn sexy; did she have any idea of what she was doing to me?

I reached out and grabbed her delicate hand and rubbed circles around her palm, laughing a little bit, "Trust me, love, nobody wants to more than I do." By now I was throbbing, "How about we get off this beach and somewhere more… private… and have some real fun." I wiggled my eyebrows a little and her angelic voice rang in my ears as she giggled.

Ever so slowly, she pulled her hand out of mine with a sly smile on her lips. Leaning forward, she started to crawl towards me like a lioness stalking her pray until we were face to face again. She placed one quick peck on my lips before jumping and running away so quickly that I couldn't catch her.

"Oi," I called after her while scrambling to my feet, "that was _not_ fair!" She stopped, briefly, to turn around and stick her tongue out at me while I continued to chase her. "Cute, love… that was really mature of you."

Laughter floated from behind her as she ran, but I was gaining ground, and soon I was only a few feet behind her. I was so close, yet every time I reached out, my fingers would only graze her back. By now, she was laughing so hard that she had to stop running, and she fell to the ground in a fit of giggles, clutching her sides.

I stopped too and kneeled down in the sand next to her, my own body racked with laughter. When we were together, everything became so much lighter, freer, and I just felt this overpowering sense of invincibility – a feeling like nothing could ever go wrong – that enveloped me in a blanket of security and hope. It was like I was seeing everything for the first time; everything I looked at became sharper, colors brighter, sounds clearer, and hell, food even tasted better.

We held hands as our laughter quieted down, both of us lying on our backs, shoulders touching and with goofy smiles plastered on our faces. Hermione rolled over onto her stomach and started to play with a piece of my hair. She was biting her lip and her brows were furrowed. I knew everyone of her mannerisms by heart, and this look meant only one thing: here comes the questions.

"Draco?"

"Yes?" I turned my head towards the side so that I was facing her.

She hesitated for a few seconds, still twirling my hair in her fingers. "Why can't I meet your mother?"

Shit. It wasn't that I didn't want her to meet my mother, I wanted Hermione to be part of my life completely, I just didn't trust my own mother. Even though the war is over and the way people think have changed, I still wasn't sure she would be so… accepting. When it came right down to it, I didn't want her to ruin anything before it even started.

I was also terrified that she was going to tell my father, and I _knew_ he wouldn't accept it.

How do I tell Hermione this without hurting her? I moved my focus again from her face to the clear sky. "It's not that I don't want you meeting my mother, love, it's that I don't want my mother meeting _you_." Crap, that came out wrong. She dropped my hair and looked away. "Hermione, no, crap!" I started to ramble frantically, trying to explain myself, "That's not what I mean. It's not you, you're perfect! I just don't trust my mother to see you the same way I do. Please understand, love."

"You know, you're going to have to tell her at some point, and she has just as much a chance of coming between us then as she does now. If we really want this to work, we can't go around hiding it from everybody. I'm going to tell Harry and Ron as soon as we get back. And besides, you've already met my parents and they accepted you."

A small snort escaped my lips, "Hermione, you're parents don't know me, or anything about me, for that matter."

My snort was rewarded with a gentle slap on the back of my head, "Don't you think I've told them something about you from when I was at school, you tortured and ridiculed me every damn second you got."

"You… you told them about me? And they _still_ liked me?"

"Well, they weren't particularly _pleased_ when I told them, but we talked it out and they're trying to understand. Be objective about it. They agreed to meet you – the new you – and form their own opinion. And," she said, giving me a punch in the shoulder, "they decided that you're not half bad. They only want what's best for me, Draco, and they could see that I'm happy with you."

I inched my body slightly closer to hers, our heads lying in the sand, so close that I could feel her breath on my face. "You're happy with me?"

"Yes," she whispered quietly, but just loud enough so I could hear her sweet voice, "truly and completely happy. I told you, Draco Malfoy, I'm yours."

Reaching over, I used one finger to trace down the side of her face, delicately, as her eyes fluttered shut and struggled to say open. As softly as I could, I placed one kiss on her forehead and let my lips linger longer than necessary. It just felt so damn good to touch her. It made me feel so… alive.

If I could live in this moment, just the two of us forever, then that would be perfectly alright. Being with Hermione was probably the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I knew that I never wanted to be apart from her. My heart was racing inside my chest, my skin was tingling with the anticipation of her touch, and my stomach was doing summersaults.

And I couldn't think of any logical explanation for it, so logically, there was only one reason.

I… I loved her.

Rarely was there logic or reason in love, I certainly couldn't find any. It was all madness, random, life altering and completely wonderful madness.

I loved Hermione.

I was in love.

Me, Draco Malfoy, loved Hermione Granger.

God it felt so good to say that! I used to feel like there was this huge gaping hole inside of me, in place of where my heart should have been, and all I wanted was to feel whole. To love and _be _loved. But love, or any display of open affection, wasn't permitted in my family while the Dark Lord was in power. So I became cold and cruel in order to protect myself. I was feared because I guess if I was feared, I would never become close to anyone so it wouldn't hurt if I lost them, as death was something that I witnessed so regularly.

But my past was my past – no matter how not-so-distant it may be – and I had to stop thinking about; opening up those old wounds would only ruin things, and right now everything was just so Goddamn perfect.

Though I can't help but wonder how it happened. I mean, one minute I'm thinking that I'm going to have to go the rest of my life without ever knowing what true love feels like, and then in the blink of an eye I'm wondering how I was ever able to hurt her, no matter what I had been taught to do. When you're told to hate someone your entire life, it was always just easier to accept it, than to question it.

So what was making me question it now?

Right now what I really needed to do was to stop over thinking everything and let myself live in the moment. The more I thought about it, the better chances I had to screw it all up.

So I emptied my mind, forcing out all those nagging thoughts, and laid my head back in the sand, closing my eyes to bright sun. I could feel Hermione following suit, and laying her head in the crook of my neck, partially on top of my arms that were folded behind my own head, as I moved them to come down and wrap themselves around her delicate body. Strands of her hair tickled my chin and the slow and steady rhythm of her breathing lulled me until I had to fight to stay awake.

Almost every time I closed my eyes I would get this feeling that the next time I opened them, Hermione would be gone and everything that happened in the past couple of weeks had all been one dream. And that scared the shit out of me because now that I know what love feels like, I never want to know what it feels like to lose it.

I tightened my grip around her.

…

"Draco."

I turned over on my side.

"Draco, please?"

I could tell that the sun was still out, as I could feel it trying to warm my skin. A small shiver passed through my body, so it must have been later in the day, but that could have also been because I was only wearing my bathing suit.

Something poked my side, lightly, a few times and I tried to wave it away with my hand.

It didn't stop.

If anything, the _extremely_ annoying poking in my side got stronger with each poke. And again, I tried and failed to shoo it away.

"Wake up Draco. Come on, look what I found."

In an attempt to move away from the voice and the poking, I rolled by body. The only thing I managed to do was to roll myself onto my stomach, my face in the sand. Somewhere, though, in my escape plan, I forgot to close my mouth. So when I face-planted into the sand, a whole lot of it ended up in my wide open trap.

Turning back over, I sat up rather quickly and proceeded to spit out all the sand that had gotten caught in my mouth out somewhere next to me. It tasted disgusting. There was sand everywhere, like someone had been taking handfuls of and just dumping it somewhere on my body; especially in my hair.

It took me a few moments to realize that someone was sitting next to me, and after rubbing the sleep from my eyes I could clearly see Hermione, hand over her mouth as her shoulder shook, trying not to laugh. All hope was lost when a small snort escaped from behind her hand, and she fell backwards and onto her side, laughing her little ass off.

"You," she finally choked out, "have to be one of the hardest people to wake up. Ever."

I grumbled something unintelligent while I let her laugh; she really did have most beautiful laugh that was music to my ears. "Are you done now?" I asked her irritably.

She didn't stop completely, but her laughter did die down somewhat, "No, give me another minute… You should have seen your face, Draco. It was absolutely priceless.

"That's really wonderful. Now would you care to share why you so _rudely_ woke me up?"

"Oh you're so sensitive," she gave me a playful smack on the arm, getting up onto her knees. "I wanted to show you what I found! While you were out (I couldn't bear to wake you up, you just looked so peaceful) I walked down to the shoreline. It was the oddest thing; just lying there in the sand."

Excitedly, she turned around and picked something up off the sand and then placed it into my hands. At first glance, I had no idea what it could be, whatsoever. It was wet, I could gather that much, weighed down and darkened by the water. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what it was. "I give up, what is it?"

She grabbed it back, "It's my book, _Emma_, or well, what's left of it." She stroked the front of the book gently, like a mother would a child, and cradled it to her chest as a single tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. "It was one of my favorites. My father gave it to me for my birthday a few years back, he found it in these hole-in-the-wall thrift shops in London. He knew how much I loved it."

"Oh, love." I raised my hand and used my thumb to wipe the tear off her face. "Is there really no hope of repairing it? Even with a spell?"

She shook her head, hair falling over her face so I couldn't see it. "No," she said sounding slightly crushed, "all the pages are missing. I don't think even _I _could fix that."

"What? Not even _you_? Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age?" I gave her a small poke in the sides, trying to do _anything_ to see that beautiful smile of hers back on her face, "Surely there has to be _some way_?" She just shook her head again, her lips twitching upwards slightly. I pulled her onto my lap faster than she could pull away and hugged her close to my body, arms tight to her side so she couldn't move.

Kicking her legs, she tried to pull out of my grip, _finally_ laughing. "Okay, okay! You win, I'm laughing, are you happy? Draco–" she yelled at me, but I cut her off by placing my lips over hers. She was slightly shocked at first, before she started to move her lips with mine, turning her body when my arms slackened so we were facing, and she was straddling me.

Her arms twisted around my neck and she tangled her fingers into my hair as I deepened the kiss, biting her lower lip softly as she opened her mouth and allowed my tongue an opportunity to dart inside. If it was possible, her grip on me tightened, leaving not a millimeter of space between our two bodies, almost as if someone had fused our skin together. The sheer contact was incredible. Addicting.

Touching her was like… someone had set a bunch of fire crackers off underneath my skin and they were erupting all at once.

After so long of thinking this was the very definition of wrong, who knew it could feel so right? It gave new meaning to _everything_; to my life, my very existence. Up until now, nothing else had ever mattered.

Our tongues swirled around, each battling for the upper hand in the fight for dominance. It wasn't rushed, but slow and full of unsaid passion. We didn't need to say anything. Occasionally she would break the kiss to catch her breath and nibble on my ear or kiss and suck on my neck only to find her way back to my swollen-from-snogging lips.

"Draco?" she said, in between kisses, "Can we go out tonight?"

I kissed the spot behind her ear that I knew she loved, and she whimpered slightly in response. Stopping, I removed my mouth from her neck to look at her face, "What exactly do you mean 'go out'. Where in the bloody hell would we go?"

"Just into town; maybe have dinner. Come on, it'll be fun, we never do anything." She brushed the hair out of my face, pouting slightly. How could I say no to her? "All we ever do is sit on the beach and snog."

"I was under the impression that you actually liked the snoging?" Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, defeated, as I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively. "Love," I said, wrapping my arms around her, so they rested at the small of her back, and pulling her closer to me, "I'm just joking. Of course we can go out, what kind of person do you think I am? Don't answer that. I know the perfect place in town; just meet me at the dock around seven. Is that alright?"

"Yes!" She squealed, jumping up. Grabbing the side of my face with both her hands, she planted a wet kiss on my forehead. "Thank you, Draco, Thank you!"

Before I could even react, she started to race back towards our houses, a ridiculously adorable smile planted on her face, and _I _couldn't help but smile seeing how happy she was. I took my time, standing up though, brushing the sand off myself and readjusting my clothing.

By the time I reached the house, all the lights were off, and I assumed that Berta had gone home, and my mother was taking her usual nap upstairs. The glass door slid open silently, and I crept inside, the old floorboards creaking silently from my step.

"You shouldn't be creeping around like that, Draco."

Holly SHIT, I swear I jumped ten feet in the air, "Merlin, Mother! Don't _do _that, you nearly gave me a bloody heart attack!" Me creeping around, HA, who's the one hiding in the shadows and scaring the bloody crap out of me?

She took a step out from under the archway she was standing under and into the light from the large bay window. The light reflected off her white-silk robe so that it illuminated only half her regal face and accentuated the sharpness of her features. As beautiful and warm as my mother was, she still scared me shitless sometimes. She was a little… intimidating. "I just want you to be careful, Draco. I'm not blind; I can see what's going on."

I froze. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said coldly, hoping she would take the hint.

"Oh don't give me that bull, darling, I'm your mother. You can't fool me." She took another step towards me and sat down on the couch in one fluid, graceful movement, "I also know what it feels like to be in love. Ah, don't interrupt me. I know what it feels like to be in love, but I can also see that you're running around half-cocked, and that if you aren't careful, you're going to get hurt. You're young, enjoy it!"

"You don't know what you're talking," I half growled at her.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, "Watch it young man. Just because you're legally an adult doesn't make you one. You're only eighteen years old, you're still a child, and even though you think you know everything about life, doesn't mean that you actually do. Tell me something, have you ever spun around in a circle really fast with your arms held out?"

"What? Uh... sure I have, but not since I was little."

"You should try it again sometimes because that's what it feels like to be in love. The faster you spin the more your heart starts to race, and your world spins and turns upside down. But if you don't keep your eyes fixed on something still, if you're not careful, you'll lose your balance and you can't see that you're about to fall."

What the fuck was I supposed to make of that, "Thank you for those unwanted pearls of wisdom, but I can take care of myself. Merlin knows I've been doing it for a while. Now if you'll excuse me," I walked past the couch she was sitting on and up the stairs, pausing when I was about halfway up, "I have to get ready to go out tonight."

"I'm only trying to look out for you." She called up the stairs after me.

Running into my room, I slammed the door. Loudly. "I don't _need_ anyone to look out of me. And I don't want you to!"

"I love you too, darling!"

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**AN: So I know you all must hate me after making you wait so long, but I hope that I made up for it? Maybe... yea...? Leave me a review and let me know, please! Next chapter is in Hermione's POV in the present time, and it's more than half done too! Leave me a review and you'll get a sneak peak, plus the chance to ask any ONE question, that I promise to answer no matter what (as a special treat for my non-updating). **


	14. Chapter 14

**Vienna**

**Chapter 14 **

**AN: See, I told you guys I would update! I'll save you guys the psycho-babble and just say thank you to Anna, my lovely beta, and to everyone who reviewed and/or added me to their favorites/updates You guys really do make me smile. **

**_Hermione Granger_**

It's amazing how, in a matter of minutes, everything I had worked so hard for could just turn to crap.

Unbelievably fucking amazing.

How every bloody feeling that I had fought to repress could just somehow pop right back into place, like they had never really been gone at all.

I stood in the doorway of Emma's room, watching the steady rise and fall of her little chest as she slept, most likely down for the count. She slept like a rock, much like someone else I knew.

Honestly, who was I trying to kid?

For so long I tried to ignore how I really felt, tried to put on a happy face and pretend that everything would be okay, even when I knew that I couldn't do this much longer, whatever _this_ is. I tried so hard to be strong for Emma and everyone I cared about, that I neglected my own feelings. And as much as I hate to admit it, I'm _not_ strong enough.

I'm not strong enough to live much longer with out him, and to keep up this "smile and get through it" facade. I needed him more than I realized I would, when I first found out about Emma. God, I see _so_ much of Draco in her.

But seeing him today, and remembering all the pain that he put me through, and remembering how much I loved and needed him, I was still torn. I thought that after all those years of wishing, hoping, _dreaming_ that he would come back, I would be happy. But I wasn't. Instead of running into his arms, I wanted to bash his Goddamn face in.

Who was he to leave me like that? To make a promise to me that, no matter what our future held for us, and no matter what anyone would have said or done, we would have stayed together. Because he loved me. Because he claimed that we had a love so strong, nothing and nobody could get in between it.

Because I stupidly fell for it – every spoon-fed piece of bullshit.

That summer I gave him _everything_, my heart included. And instead of the happily ever after that he promised me would be waiting when I got home, I returned to broken promises and a five-week-old surprise.

I should have known then that it was too good to be true. I mean, come on, the Slytherin Prince and the Griffyndor Princess? I knew better than to believe in fairytales. Nowhere in any of the books I have read does it say that prince rescues princess, prince knocks up princess, and then prince runs away. It doesn't really make for happily ever after.

It was still early in the morning – the sun just barely starting its ascent over the horizon – as I nursed a rather large cup of coffee in my hands, and wrapped a fuzzy bathrobe around my body. I shivered as I felt a gust of wind come in through an open window, even though it was still early September.

I loved to watch the sunrise, as it was usually the only time in my day that I had to myself to just think. It was calming, and like a little reminder to myself that I had made it through to another day. The sun was bright this morning, and it felt good against my face as its light streamed through the open window.

Emma started to stir in her sleep eventually, even though I knew she was far from waking. Casting one more quick look at her tiny body, all curled up in her bed, I turned and shuffled into the kitchen busying my hands with making breakfast.

No more than ten minutes had to have passed before I heard a light tapping against my window, interrupting my cooking. Slowly, I made my way across the kitchen to open the window to stop the annoying rapping noise. Waiting, was a large gray barn owl that swooped inside, and perched itself on the edge of a counter, barley giving me enough time to move aside.

It hooted a few times before sticking out one leg towards me, anxiously waiting for me to untie the attached letter. The owl was unfamiliar, and it was early, long before most people usually woke for the day. Who would be writing to me, I had no idea.

The owl waited – albeit a little impatiently – for me to untie the letter from its leg and feed it a treat. It didn't make any move to leave; instead it just sat there and stared. It was a little unnerving, to tell you the truth.

I turned my attention back to the letter. The parchment felt heavy in my hands, thick and expensive. Whoever picked it out obviously could afford the best. I ran my fingers over the elegant writing that spelled out my name, and then over the wax stamp that sealed it closed – I couldn't make out what it was supposed to say.

Though I didn't know what I had to be afraid of, I cautiously moved my finger under the seal, ripping it open. I could only guess who it could be from at ten to six in the morning. I unfolded the elegant paper, and scanned my eyes over the letter quickly, until I reached the signature at the bottom.

I breathed a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding.

Much more slowly, I read the letter again, hoping to retain it's meaning this time.

_Miss Granger,_

_Sorry to disturb you so early in the morning – I hope I didn't wake you – but I wanted to make sure I got in contact with you before you left for the ministry. As of last night, something's come up, and I'm not going to be able to make it into the office this morning. I'm aware of all the work we have, and of the gravity of it, and I was hoping that you'd consider coming to me, so we could still get some work done. Please let me know as soon as you receive this letter. _

_Sincerely,_

Blaise Zabini

I thought for a moment before digging out a piece of parchment and a quill from a nearby draw, scribbling out a sloppy yes and the time that I would meet him, and sending the owl on it's way.

When the owl was finally gone, I collapsed into one of the chairs surrounding my kitchen table. Why was I so afraid of that letter, what did I really expect it to be about? Part of me almost wished it was from _him_, now that he knew the truth, especially when I felt the expensive parchment in my hands. It was something he would buy.

The other part of me, however, knew I was crazy for thinking like that. Almost six years go by without a single word from him, and yet, the day after he finds out the truth of what he left behind, he writes me a letter? Even I know that sounds ridiculous.

I kept playing out yesterday afternoon in my head. Out of all the times I had imagined that moment, I never imagined myself walking away. Giving him a good kick you-know-where? Yes. Walking away? Never.

Ugh.

My arms were resting on the table, and I let my head fall into them with a good _bang_. Sometimes I just wish I could scream or yell or cry or rip all the hair out of my head; _anything_ to release looming pressure over my chest that I felt whenever I thought about him.

In the past, so many people tried to talk to me about it, but there was only so much they could do. I would talk to Ginny, careful to leave out anything to give his identity way, but there was only so much she could do. She couldn't bring him back, and I felt guilty for making her my emotional punching bag.

It would come in waves too. One minute I would be out with friends, laughing and enjoying myself, and the next I would be a mess somewhere, simply because I saw something that reminded me of him. Just recently it had been getting better.

I could feel my mind running in circles. The same circles it's been running in for the past six years.

I sounded like a broken record. A pathetic, lonely, broken record.

A quick look at the clock bought me out of my thoughts. I hadn't realized how long I had been sitting there. I finished cooking, quickly throwing some eggs on the burner and popping a few slices of bread in the toaster before I went to wake up Emma.

…

"Emma…" I said in a slightly sing-song voice.

There was no answer.

"Emma…" I said again, this time with a small poke.

She didn't answer me; instead she turned away from me onto her stomach, refusing to acknowledge my presence.

Fighting with Emma over waking up had become somewhat of a routine. Even though I knew exactly how to wake her up, I always felt bad for doing so. Instead I'd let her win the first few rounds and sleep a few minutes longer, before tickling her sides and waking her right up.

Her silky blond hair was a mess across her pillow, half covering her peaceful little face. I used the hand that wasn't trying to wake her up to brush some of the hair covering her face, off.

Every time I see her I know that I made the right choice. _Nothing_ is more important to me than she is, and I'm pretty sure it would be impossible for me to love her anymore. Everything I did in life I did for her.

Finally I gave in, giving her sides a slight tickle, "Emma, baby, it's time to wake up. You have school today."

She shook her head, hair swinging wildly around her, "Five more minutes, please Mummy?" Her groggy voice pleaded with me.

"No can do, baby girl," I said, giving her bum a light pat before standing up off her bed, "you've had your five minutes, and now it's time to wake up."

She sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, pouting a little, "But Mummy, I was having such a good dream!"

I raised an eyebrow in question, "Oh? Would you like to share?"

"Nope. If I do then it won't come true, you know that! And I really, really, _really_, want this one to come true!"

Emma had this strange belief that, like a wish on a birthday cake, if she didn't say anything about a dream, then it would come true. I could try for hours to ask her about what she dreamt, but she was always adamant about not sharing, unless of course it was a bad dream.

I have no idea where it came from.

Leaning down, I gave her a quick kiss on her forehead before reminding that as of today she had to wear her uniform to school, and then leaving the room to get dressed myself.

Once I looked half way presentable – I really didn't care at this point – I sent a patronus to the office to let them know that I would be working out of Blaise's house.

I could feel that this was going to be another slow day, and I wasn't particularly looking forward to it. Emma was already halfway done with her food by the time I entered the kitchen, dressed and ready to go, and sat down at the table to eat. I didn't really have an appetite.

After wolfing down her food and helping me clean up, Emma jumped out of her seat, grabbed her backpack, and shot towards the fireplace faster than I have ever seen her move before. After the… er… incident… her first day of school, she's really started to like it. That alone took a tremendous weight off my back.

With all the worrying I do, it's nice to have one less thing to think about.

"Mummy let's _go_! We're going to be late!" Emma called from the fireplace, backpack already on her back, both arms crossed in front of her chest. I had to close my eyes for a second to get an image of Draco out of my mind. She's like a mini-me sometimes, I swear.

With relatively calm nerves, I flooed with Emma to school before entering their fire place to floo to the Zabini Manor, where I was greeted by a timid house elf that would lead me to Blaise's study.

From what I could tell after only seeing so little of the Manor, it had to be quite beautiful. The hallway leading to the study was long, with marble floors, high ceilings, walls painted deep green, and large bay windows that let in plenty of sunshine.

The study was also just as elegant, with wood paneled walls, plush carpeting that covered the entire floor, and a rather large marble fireplace. Sitting behind the desk was Blaise, who stood up to take my hand when he heard me enter the room.

"Granger," he said, gesturing towards the two armchairs stationed next to the fireplace where we took a seat, "sorry for change of plans, I hope I didn't inconvenience you. Something, er, just came up last night which won't allow me to leave my house."

He seemed uncomfortable talking about whatever it was that was keeping him here, so I let his vague answer slid, "No, it's no problem at all." I answered with a smile, "So have we heard anything new?"

Blaise, obviously more comfortable talking about work, jumped up to grab the file from his desk before sitting back down. "Well, we've handed the file over to Jennsen so he can put some aurors on the case. Like we agreed upon yesterday, there's something very fishy about this. I'd hate to have to bring charges up against her if she's innocent."

I skimmed the folder again, to refresh my memory, before agreeing. "I think that if we can nail this guy – I mean if the aurors can nail this guy – then we certainly have enough to fall back on when the time comes to prosecute. His record pretty much speaks for itself. It shouldn't be that hard to get the support of the jury."

"Maybe we should come up with some kind of plan?" Blaise suggested.

"I don't know, this whole thing just seems kind of odd… It's like they bought this case up against her with no real investigation. The only thing we have against her is that she's violated her custody agreement. We," I gestured between the two of us, "as the prosecution are supposed to be prosecuting her for that reason, and yet, we're doing it almost backwards, by claiming she's the innocent one."

"So you think we should drop the charges?"

Blaise looked confused as he picked up the file and leafed through it again like it held the answer he was looking for. Hell, I was even confusing myself. I took a second before answering him to gather my thoughts. "No, I think we should put this case aside, pending an investigation of this Kingpin guy. If she's innocent, then we have no case, anyway. Why waste our time on it?"

It took Blaise a moment before agreeing and then excusing himself to contact Anna and explain the situation. In his absence, I took another look around the study, poking around the coffee table in front of the chairs we were sitting on. There wasn't much: a few old newspapers, two glasses that hadn't been cleaned up, and an older-looking leather bound book.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I reached over and grabbed the book off the table, turning it over in my hands and running my fingers over title: _Othello_. Interesting.

I flipped the front cover open and started skimming through the pages until landing on one with the top corner folded over. Quickly, I scanned over the prose only to stop when I saw that a few of the lines were lightly underlined. I read them quietly, mulling over their meaning, "She loved me for the dangers I had passed/ And I loved her that she did pity them./ This is the only witchcraft I have used." Huh, weird.

"What were you saying?" I jumped a little out of my seat, not expecting Blaise to come back into the room so quickly. "Sorry," he said laughing "didn't mean to scare you. What is that?"

"Oh, no worries. It's, um, a book – _Othello_ – found it on the table." I put it back on the table.

Blaise stared at it for a few seconds before shaking his head, "Huh, I don't remember taking that out."

A moment passed in silence before Blaise shook his head again almost as if to say, "moving on". I took the initiative, "So what did Anna have to say?" I asked.

"Oh, she agrees, although she wants us to check with the ex first, just to avoid any problems." I nodded. "We don't need him breathing down our backs the whole time."

I stood up to leave, "Great, I'll check up wi-…"

"Oi, Blaise!" An oddly familiar, yet groggy, voice interrupted from somewhere over by the door, "you wouldn't happen to have any hangover potions lying around would you? My bloody head feels like it's going to explode. And do you think you could get a house-elf to look at my hand? I think your effing gate broke it."

When the voice stopped, I turned.

Our eyes met.

The room went silent – you could have heard a fucking pindrop in China.

I froze.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Blaise stand up to try to make a run for it, muttering something about staying out of it. I pointed at the chair, "Sit." I commanded, never taking my eyes of _him_.

I felt something bubbling in my chest, rising from my gut. I was mad. No – worse – I was _pissed off_.

"What the hell is this?" I hissed, my voice cracking along the way. I would not cry. I would not cry. "What the _hell_ is this!" My voice gained authority and volume, this time directing my anger at Blaise. "Did you do this? Is this why you couldn't come into the office?"

Blaise looked at his feet.

Draco took a step towards me, one arm outstretched as if he wanted to reach out to me, "Hermione…"

"No." I shook my head wildly, and backed up. "No, just stay away from me. No. Just, No."

This was not happening.

For six years I dreamed of this day – the day I'd finally get to confront Draco. So many different scenarios have run through my head, along with millions of dialogues that I'd planed out specifically for this day.

But my mind was blank.

He took another step forward, and I took another step back. "Hermione, _please_," he begged, "just let me explain…"

"Explain?" I laughed manically, "You want a chance to _explain_ yourself? Who do you think you are!"

Again he took another step forward, and I another back. I was getting close to the wall now. He put his hands up in a gesture similar to surrender, "Please, I know I don't deserve it, I know I don't, but if you could just give me five minutes!"

I could hear the anguish in his voice, and I could see the pain on his face. When I didn't make any move to stop him, he kept talking. I could tell he was choosing his words carefully.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry." His voice was pleading, "I really am, you have no idea how much I regret what I did. I was stupid! I acted like a bloody fucking idiot! I'm sorry! If I had known…"

"Stop." I could feel something inside of me snap, and all the rage and anger I had been holding down came exploding out. Everything I had been feeling for the past six years came gushing out of me in tidal waves. "Stop. Right. There. How dare you! How _dare_ you say that! 'If I had known…' _Bullshit!_ You're _pathetic_! If you had known, you would have what? You would have come running back? You would have wanted to be with me? You would have felt _obligated _to be with me? I was not, and _am_ not a charity case! I don't need you to pity me! I've had enough people pitying me for as long as I can remember and it needs to _stop!_"

I took a breath.

Draco opened his mouth.

I kept on yelling – I wasn't done yet.

"You, Draco Malfoy, are a _coward_. You run away at the first sign of something being wrong, acting purely on your own selfish desires! Did you ever _once_ think about me while you were off somewhere pitying yourself? Did you ever stop for a second to consider how _I'd _feel when I went home to find you not there?"

I took another breath and rubbed my temples.

"I waited for you for _months_, and I got nothing. Emma's been waiting for you for _six years_. She's expecting you to come riding out of the sunset and sweep her off her feet! Emma doesn't need a _coward_, she needs a father!"

Draco visibly flinched.

I didn't care.

And then, just like it had started, the anger passed, and I was left standing in the middle of Blaise's study trying to catch my breath after my tirade.

It felt like a ten-ton weight had just been lifted off my chest. After six years I had finally been able to say my piece, and it felt great.

But when I looked back at Draco, my heart sank. He was just standing there, with such a broken and bewildered look on his face that it broke _my_ heart.

It didn't feel so great anymore.

This time I was the one who took a step forward, while he took a step back. "Draco…" I started, but he put his hand up.

"Just... just give me a second, here." He collapsed backwards into a chair, propping his elbows up on his knees and resting his head in his hands. Glancing around the room I noticed that at some point during my fit Blaise must have left the room, because he was nowhere to be seen.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. "That was _not_ fair. I know you're upset with me," I snorted, "okay maybe upset isn't exactly a strong enough word, but I didn't deserve _that_."

I sat across from him on the coffee table, our knees barley an inch apart. Being this close to him, I could feel his warmth, and I had to restrain myself from reaching out and laying a hand on his leg.

"Well, what did you want me to say, Draco? It's a hard knock life but the sun will come out tomorrow? It just doesn't work that way." I searched his face, and tried to look him in the eye, but he was staring at he floor. "I know this isn't fair, and I'm sorry I went crazy like that, but like it or not, this is the way things are. Unfortunately, it is what it is. We can't change the past."

"I know that." He was mumbling, but I could tell he voice was strained. He sounded like Emma always does just before she starts to cry.

"Do you, do you really? Because it looks to me like you have this "woe is me" crap down pretty well. You're not the only one in pain; you're not the only one who got hurt. If I remember correctly, _you're_ the one who left _me_." Still no movement.

"Look, I'm sorry I yelled like that, but I just needed to get it off my chest – it had to be said." I stopped for a second to let my words sink in.

Nothing, not even a flinch.

Sighing, I stood up and tried to make my voice sound as soothing as I could, "Draco, I'm sorry. When you want to talk, I'll listen. I promise, no more screaming."

Again, he made no attempt to move.

Hesitantly, I bent down and placed one soft kiss on the back of his head, letting my fingers run through his silky hair for one painful second.

It wasn't until I was halfway out the door that I heard him let out a single broken sob.

* * *

**AN: So, what did you think? I know everyone seems a little bipolar right now, but just bear with me; this chapter kind of wrote itself as I went. If you leave me a review and tell me what you think, I'll give you a sneak peak of the next chapter! So, review!**

**Bye for now**


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